


Fallout 4: Companions React

by Kirrain



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4, companions react - Fandom
Genre: Companions, Companions React, Multi, React, Reaction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-06-07 08:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6796672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirrain/pseuds/Kirrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A compilation of "Companions React".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Kitten

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing some "Companions React" on Tumblr and I plan on doing a lot more. I thought it would be fun to post them here as well. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Companions react to Sole accidentally catching a kitten in a cage.

**Cait** : "Look at that scruffy-lookin' thing. Hardly any meat on its body, but I guess we could use it as bait for the next trap." Sole looks over to Cait disapprovingly, and she senses Sole's intentions. "Oh, no. You're not sayin' ya actually want to _keep_ it, are ya? Look at it. It's useless!" The kitten purrs at Sole's touch, then runs to Cait and rubs itself against her leg, playing with her boot. Cait blushes, watching the little ball of fur wag its tail and swipe at her toes playfully. "Well, I ... I guess there's no harm in keepin' it. But I'm not cleanin' up after it!" She affectionately names it Lucky.

 **Curie** : She immediately runs to the cage and releases the tiny animal. She holds it gently and examines it for injuries and illnesses. "C'est trop mignon!" She turns to Sole with a radiant smile. "My friend, we are keeping it, yes?" Sole nods, kneeling down beside Curie and scratching the kitten behind its ears. Curie mimics Sole's behaviour and watches in amazement as the kitten purrs and meows in contentment. "Hourra! I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship!" She lovingly names it Ames.

 **Piper** : "Look at that," she says, slowly opening the cage door. "Looks like curiosity caught the cat." She chuckles fondly. "Can't say I haven't been stuck in the same predicament. Guess you and I have a lot in common, huh?" She reaches into the cage, and the kitten fearlessly pounces at her hand and licks her fingers. "Oh, I'm keeping you. I know Nat would love a cat. What do you think?" Sole nods in approval. "Well that settles it, then. You're coming with me. Just, uh ... try not to scratch up all my newspapers." The kitten meows happily. She ironically names it Scoop.

 **Dogmeat** : He sniffs the cage and the kitten bats at his nose mischievously. Sole opens the gate and watches as the two animals cautiously approach each other. They sniff each other curiously, then let out two soft yips. Dogmeat lays down, and the kitten curls up next to him, tucking its tail and falling asleep. They become close friends. Sole decides it's best to call it Catmeat.

 **Strong** : He grumbles as Sole pets the kitten, holding it close. "What you want to keep it for? Animal small, weak, not even good for full meal." Sole frowns, then gently places it in his hands. The kitten purrs and rubs its cheek against his green, textured skin. "Strong not understand, but think it likes him." He sighs loudly, realizing that he enjoys touching its soft fur. Sole smiles and tells him that cats enjoy milk, and Strong laughs boisterously at the comment. "So one day cat could become noble warrior! Strong will give milk of human kindness!" Sole rubs the back of his neck, nervously. "Okay. You keep. But not Strong's fault if he steps on it." He has no preference for a name, so he just calls it Cat.

 **X6-88** : He stares at Sole censoriously. "If you want to keep it that's your prerogative, but I'll have no part in it." He barely acknowledges the animal, but sometimes pets its head when he thinks Sole isn't looking.

 **Codsworth** : "Oh, felines are so messy!" he gripes. "You're, uh ... you're not planning on keeping the beast, are you?" Sole nods, holding the kitten up to Codsworth's sensors. He studies the animal closely, but pulls back when it gives him a friendly lick. "Well, uh ... how much of a mess can one little kitten make? It's not like there's much left to ruin, anyway. Oh, heck, let's keep it!" He cheerfully names it Sir Fluffington.

 **Danse** : "A cat isn't permitted to board the Prydwen, soldier." Sole quickly points out that Quinlan has a cat named Emmett that resides in his office. Danse blushes and says, "That's different. His cat is ... hypoallergenic." Sole pauses, then laughs mockingly. "This isn't a laughing matter, soldier! I can't ... I can't--!" He sneezes, then rubs his nose with a sniffle. The kitten meows and caresses its body against his armoured leg, almost apologetically. "Well ... I guess it'll be all right, if you're really so bent on keeping it. Just make sure you keep it away from my face!" He stoically names it Scout.

 **Preston** : "I haven't seen a cat in a long time. Not many of them hanging around out here. How about it, General? Do you think we can keep it? Looks like it's just a baby. If we don't take it in, it could die out there." Sole agrees, handing him the small animal and smiling when it scratches at his duster. "Playful little thing, aren't you?" The kitten meows and nibbles on his buttons. "Well, anyway, let's head out. I just got word of a settlement that needs our help. I'll mark it on your map." Sole sighs and leads the way, while Preston carefully tucks the kitten in his coat to keep it safe. He graciously names it Ticker.

 **MacCready** : He can't help but laugh as he teases it through the bars. "Look at you. Now why'd you go and get yourself caught like that, huh?" The kitten meows, licking his fingertips. "You're kinda cute, aren't you? A bit on the scrawny side, but I think we can fix that." Sole is shocked by his friendly nature, and tells him so. "Yeah, I'm not usually one for animals, but ... Lucy liked cats. Used to own one, back before we met. I always promised I'd find her another one, but--" He hides under his hat, shielding his sad eyes. Sole places a gentle hand on his shoulder, comforting him, then opens the cage and hands him the kitten. "Are you ... are you saying we can keep it?" Sole nods with a friendly gesture. "Oh, this is great! Thank you! Duncan will be so excited!" He eagerly names it Sticky.

 **Deacon** : He stares at the kitten. The kitten stares back. It sits on its hind legs. Deacon copies its position. It meows. Deacon meows. It wiggles its ears. Deacon wiggles his ears. It yawns. Deacon yawns. The kitten reaches between the bars, swatting at Deacon's hand. Deacon swats back, lightly brushing its paw. He turns to Sole, his expression unmistakably sombre. "I'm keepin' it." Sole shrugs, thrown off by his weird bonding technique. "All right, little guy! You hear that? Looks like we're stickin' together from now on." The kitten purrs as he lets it out of the cage. "That's it, buddy. Hey, that's it! Yep, I like it. Your name is 'Buddy'!" The kitten mews in approval.

 **Hancock** : He releases it from the cage immediately, but isn't sure what to do when it doesn't leave. "What's up? Ya got a thing for ghouls or somethin'?" He pets it gently, then cocks half a smile when it starts to purr. "Well, damn. I guess ya do." He turns to Sole with shimmering black eyes. "Look, uh ... I don't know much about raisin' pets, but do ya think we could give it a try? It's just, I don't wanna leave it out here all alone." Sole smiles and happily agrees, then shows him the proper way to handle it. Hancock watches carefully, then copies Sole, holding the kitten close to his chest and petting it until it falls asleep. "Aw, hell. This may be the cutest damn thing I've ever seen. I guess we'll have to give it a name, huh?" He struggles between Jet and Liberty, but ultimately decides that Liberty-- or Libby, for short-- is more patriotic. Plus Sole kind of insists.

 **Nick** : He kneels down, then opens the cage and slowly reaches for the hungry kitten. He watches for any hint of fear, thinking it might cower at his mechanical parts. But it isn't afraid. In fact, it seems to like him. Nick smiles peacefully as the kitten runs out of the cage and rubs itself against his trench coat. In response, he carefully and calculatedly scratches behind its ears with his metal fingertips. The kitten purrs, then jumps into his lap and falls asleep, curling up against his stomach. "Thanks, little guy. You really know how to make a synth feel welcome." Sole smiles and tells Nick to keep it, saying there's no better man to take care of it. "Thanks, partner. That ... that really means a lot to me." He cherishingly names it Ace.


	2. Pushed Too Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Companions react to overworking Sole to the point of exhaustion.

**Cait** : "Fuck!" she yelled, retching loudly. "Goddamn it! Where the hell is that vault?! It's been three days and we _still_ haven't found it!" She kicked the dirt furiously, stubbing her toes. " _Fuck_! My insides feel like they're on fire! Ya promised you'd help me! What the hell have ya been doin'?! I marked the damn thing on your map! So what gives?!"

"I'm sorry..." Sole stammered, agonized by her outburst. "My Pip-boy can't get a clear reading. It's hard to locate a vault, especially if there's computer interference. It causes static, sort of like an EMP that--"

"I don't give a shit!" she screamed, punching a nearby tree and cracking the bark. "Just fix it!"

Sole sighed, her eyes heavy. "I know it's hard, but please try to be patient. We're in the right area, we just have to find it. Can't you take some addictol? Just for now? Just to settle your system?"

"Addictol?! I told ya that shit doesn't work on me!"

"Not long term, but it'll last long enough to get you to the vault. Please, Cait. I just--"

"Ya don't give a shit if I live or die, do ya?!" She digs her nails into her skin, gritting her teeth. "I knew it! I'm just a burden to ya!"

"No. Please. You don't understand. I--"

Sole stumbled, losing her footing and crashing to the ground. Shocked by the sudden display, Cait rushed to her aid. That's when it hit her: Sole hadn't slept or eaten since their journey began. Cait was so high and hyped up on chems that she didn't feel the effects of fatigue; nor did she notice Sole's dedication, but now it was clear as day. She hadn't complained or taken a break even once. She was fully devoted to helping Cait, yet all she did was flare her rage and spit hurtful accusations.

"Damn. I'm ... I'm so sorry," Cait moaned, reaching into her bag. I'll take the addictol. You just rest now."

"But ... we're so close," Sole breathed, barely conscious.

"Stop it. I ain't dyin', I'm just bein' dramatic. You rest now. We'll find the vault in the mornin'."

 **Curie (pre-synth)** : Curie wasn't used to having so much freedom. In truth, she wasn't sure how to handle it. Restless, eager to explore, she dragged Sole across the Commonwealth, studying everything in her path. She bombarded her with questions, some of which Sole had difficultly answering. She could barely finish a thought before the rapt white robot dashed off in search of something new. But when she hit her limit, Curie was quick to notice. She immediately set her down, strewing words of concern.

"Mon Dieu! I am so sorry!" she wailed. "I ... I can't believe I forgot how fragile the human body can be. Moi! A _nurse_! Impardonnable! Here, you must drink and rest."

Sole giggled, taking the bottle of purified water. "It's all right, Curie. You're just excited. I don't blame you."

"Still, I should have been more attentive to your needs. Why did you not _say_ something?"

"Honestly? I didn't want to spoil the moment. You're just the cutest thing when you're happy."

Curie shied away, her thruster blazing. "J-je suis embarrassé!"

Sole laughed, lying back on the grass. They'd continue their journey in the morning.

 **Piper** : Piper was desperate to expose McDonough. She'd do anything to uncover the truth, including drag Sole along on a wild goose chase. They spent days interrogating people and tailing his every move, and Sole was exhausted. Piper, on the other hand, only seemed more energetic, riled by the prospect of finding evidence to support her claim.

"I know there's something here," she said, rifling through his files. "Try kicking me and Nat out of _our_ town? Yeah, we'll see about that."

Sole watched nervously as she began to regret breaking into his office. "Piper, look, if you haven't found anything by now, maybe you're wrong."

"I'm _not_ wrong!" she yelled, trying but failing to whisper. Sole touched a finger to her lips, but Piper rolled her eyes in response. "I'm telling you, the guy's scum. It says so right here. According to these files, he's hiding all _kinds_ of things from the public."

"Including being a synth?"

Piper stepped back, gripping the papers. "Well, no ... but there's still more to read."

Sole sighed, on the verge of collapsing. "Piper ... if McDonough _is_ a synth, do you _really_ think he'd keep such damning evidence in his office? It's not exactly secure."

"W-well, what about his computer? Looks like it's password protected. What's he hiding on there, huh?"

"Everyone has a password on their computer. And politicians keep secrets. It's what they do. That doesn't mean he's a synth."

"But--"

"Take the files. Run your stories on that. With any luck, it'll be enough for the public to push him out of office. But this is a man's _life_ we're talking about. _Please_ , Piper. Let it go."

She clutched the pages firmly. "But ... I was so sure."

"You hate him. It's only natural that you'd want him to be the bad guy."

"I ... guess that's true." She folded the files and slipped them into her pocket. "I guess, for now, this is enough."

"I'm proud of you." She leaned against the desk for support. "Now can we please get out of here? I'm so tired."

Piper cringed, staring at her pale partner in crime. "Damn, Blue. You really are, aren't you? Aw, man. I'm sorry. I guess I've been pushing you a bit too hard, huh?" She stretched her arms, yawning loudly. "Now that you mention it, I'm pretty tired too. All right, let's get out of here. We can rest up at my place." Sole nodded and turned to leave, but stopped when Piper touched her shoulder. "And, Blue? Thanks. No one's ever stuck their neck out for me before. Here I have you picking locks and running around the Commonwealth, and I never even thanked you. So ... thank you."

Sole smiled, patting her back. "You're welcome, Piper. And don't worry about it. I look forward to working with you for a long, long time."

 **Codsworth** : "I'm so sorry, mum!" he said, helping her to her feet. They were surrounded by raider corpses, most of which Sole put down herself. "I said I'm no Mr. Gutsy ... but I didn't expect to be _this_ useless in battle." He scanned her body, finding several cuts and bruises. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Does it hurt?"

"Don't worry about it, Codsworth," Sole wheezed, taking a moment to catch her breath. "You're just not used to combat. I'll--" Her knees quaked and she crashed to the ground.

"Mum, are you all right?! Mum?!"

It wasn't just the fight; she was exhausted from travelling. She had spent days following Codsworth with little food and limited rest. He took notice, but without the proper supplies he couldn't do anything to help her. When the raiders attacked he panicked, having never faced such a powerful enemy.

"Ooh ... I was no help at all! As much as it pains me to say it, perhaps you should leave me behind henceforth. Or upgrade me into a more battle-worthy frame? I'm sure Mr. Sturges could work wonders. It might not be compatible with my programming ... but what are a few glitches and personality wipes in comparison to your safety?"

Sole winced, horrified by the suggestion. "You don't actually mean that, do you?"

"Well, I'm not overly fond of the idea. But if it helps keep you safe, I'm willing to take that chance."

Sole smiled, resting on the grass but holding one of his arms. "Don't change a thing, Codsworth. You're family. I can't lose you, too."

"But I'm--"

"Perfect, just the way you are. People don't upgrade themselves, they practice. You just need some training."

"I ... thank you, mum. I can't tell you how much that means to me."

"I'm glad. And I'll be happy to teach you the ways of combat." She closed her eyes, no longer able to fight her pending sleep. "Just as soon as I ... have a rest."

Codsworth whirred, refusing to leave her amongst the blood and bodies. He picked her up carefully, avoiding his saw, then slumped her over his torso. With an ambitious glow, he hovered off into the distance. This time he'd protect her. No matter what, this time she'd be safe.

 **X6-88** : X6 expected Sole to go above and beyond. A few days without rest shouldn't have been a problem, but he was disappointed to learn otherwise. She collapsed, her feet blistered and hips throbbing. They'd been walking non-stop for hours, and it had been days since she had a shower, a decent meal, and more than four hours sleep.

He turned to face her, frowning in annoyance. "Get up, Ma'am. Our mission isn't over yet."

"I need a break," Sole wheezed, sitting back on the hard, dry dirt. "Just a few minutes."

"You are the future of the Institute, Ma'am. Our mission should remain your top priority."

"It _is_ ," she protested. "But I'm only human."

" _I'm_ not tired," he scoffed.

"You're _designed_ for this sort of thing. I don't have the same build as you." He paused, considering her words carefully. "Let me put it this way: have you ever seen anyone in the Institute-- that isn't a synth-- push themselves the way you're pushing me? Could _Father_ do this? Non-stop, without a proper rest?" She cringed, removing her shoes to rub her wounded feet, and X6 watched, feeling slightly sympathetic.

"My apologies, Ma'am." He bent down, offering her some water. "Perhaps my expectations are too unrealistic."

Sole shook her head, taking a long, much-needed swig. "I don't mind that you have high expectations of me," she lisped between sips. "It's actually quite flattering. But let me have my basic necessities. I need to eat. I need to sleep. And sometimes, every once in a while, I need to _sit down_." X6 groaned, removing his sunglasses and tucking the temples behind her ears. "H-hey, what are you--?"

"Sleep," he mumbled, shielding her eyes from the sun. "You have eight hours. The average time needed for an adult female."

While she rested, he wrote up a schedule of when she should eat and sleep, as well as a healthy meal plan. After all, as the future of the Institute she needed to be at her peak efficiency.

 **Strong** : Strong could go days without rest, and he didn't understand why Sole, the person he swore to follow, couldn't do the same. The moment she collapsed, exhausted from four days of non-stop travel, he grunted and threw her over his brawny shoulder.

"Strong forgot how weak humans are. Need sleep. Sleep! Strong will keep safe."

He sneered, trying to keep her comfortable as he carried her to the next town. The people screamed when they saw him approaching, thinking that Sole was his victim, but he proved otherwise when he laid her at their feet, asking them to feed her. As the people tended to Sole, he impatiently stood outside her bedroom. He knew she'd probably be in there all night, but no one said he couldn't be angry about it.

"Strong bored!" he bellowed, leaning against the wall. Fearfully, one of the citizens tapped his arm. "What you want?" he growled. "Should be looking after leader."

"Y-your friend will be fine," the man flinched. "She just needs some sleep. But, uh ... in the meantime, we've been having some trouble with raiders. Your friend said you might want to h-help us with that?"

A sadistic grin filled the mutant's face. "Need help with raiders?! Good. Strong will smash!"

He ran out of the town, telling the man to watch over Sole until his return.

 **Preston** : "You look a little tired," Present remarked, following closely behind Sole.

"I _am_ ," she groaned. "We've been at this for days. How many more settlements are there?"

"Just a few, and they're all pretty close to each other."

Sole sobbed, looking at her map. "How are you not tired?"

"I guess I'm just used to this," he shrugged. "Travelling for a long time with little rest is kind of what the Minutemen do."

"Well _I_ just woke up!" she whimpered. She lowered her head, tears forming in her eyes. "My husband's dead, my family's in tatters, my son's missing, and everything out here wants to kill me!"

Preston felt his heart shatter, her words hitting him hard. "Damn, I ... I never even considered that. I was so wrapped up in rebuilding the Minutemen. Damn. I'm sorry. Look, if you need to rest--"

"I'm fine," she said, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "I'm sorry, Preston. I was just feeling sorry for myself. You're right, of course. Helping people is what's important."

"No." He sat down and ruffled the grass beside him. "I'm sorry I've been so inconsiderate. You need to rest. We can help the settlements tomorrow."

"A-are you sure?"

"Absolutely sure. Take all the time you need."

Sole smiled and laid back, sighing when the weight left her feet. She closed her eyes, dozing off, but not before she felt Preston's duster cover her body. She muttered a weak 'thank you', comfortable for the first time since leaving the vault. While she slept, Preston hummed his favourite tune, keeping her nightmares at bay.

 **Danse** : With his power armour, Danse had no problem travelling long distances and fighting for extended periods. After killing a near endless wave of feral ghouls, he and Sole made their way back to the Prydwen. He hardly took notice of her scratches and bruises, obtained during the vicious onslaught. She dragged her feet, her body aching and worn from two nights of very little sleep.

"Danse?" she peeped, her eyes narrow.

"What is it, soldier?"

"I ... I think I--"

She stumbled forward, but Danse reacted quickly. He dashed towards her, catching her in his arms. Only then did he notice the damage. A crushing guilt consumed him as he realized how useless he was during the fight. While she fought the ghouls, he focussed on the mission, securing the package they were sent to retrieve. Only after he had it did he lend a hand. He shook her gently, trying to wake her, but to no avail. He tried again, gasping when a hint of blood stained his fingers.

"Damn it, soldier, stay with me!"

He laid her down and reached back for his med kit. She wasn't going to die; she wasn't even in danger of dying, but he couldn't help but worry. After all, it was _his_

fault she was in such a sorry state. He was usually so careful, always putting his men before himself, but somehow she had slipped through the cracks.

"I'm okay," she slurred, feeling the stimpack pierce her skin.

"No you're not. You're bleeding."

"Hey ... ad victoriam, right?"

Danse flinched as she passed out, overcome with exhaustion. He held his breath, but a throaty grunt escaped his lips. "No, soldier. Not alone."

He lifted her off the ground, securing her in his arms. Hanging his head in shame, he made his way back to the Prydwen, vowing to fight by her side like an honourable soldier should.

 **Deacon** : Deacon spent days teaching Sole his covert ways, but espionage was harder than she thought. He pushed her hard, adopting the roll of a drill sergeant. Finally hitting her limit, Sole collapsed, her arms tangled in one of his stupid costumes.

"Damn, you okay?" he asked, sitting her upright and freeing her arms.

"It's too much, Deacon. I'm so tired."

"Well, why didn't you say somethin'?"

"Because I ... I wanted to get this right. I thought if I kept going it would eventually come to me, like it did with you."

Deacon curled his lips, stifling a guilty laugh. "Oh, uh ... yeah. I was lyin' about that."

Sole stared at him, thrown by his confession. "You what?"

"Come on. You actually _believed_ that? It took me _years_ to master this stuff, not days."

"B-but you said--!"

"You actually think there's such a thing as the 'Spy's Psyche'? That was just a fib a told ya to keep ya motivated." He laughed boisterously. "And I guess it kinda worked, huh? Kept ya motivated!"

"Deacon ... I am going to _kill_ you!"

"Okay. I understand you're emotional right now, but think of it this way: you've made _excellent_ progress."

"I hate you."

"Aw, you don't mean that. I can tell." Sole sobbed and hunched forward, fading in and out of consciousness. Only then did Deacon realize that he took his game too far. "Hey, I'm sorry. Let's get ya back to HQ. You can rest up and we'll tackle this another time." He picked her up and headed back, holding her close to his chest.

"Hey, Deacon?" she hummed, resting her head on his collar. "When you said I've made progress, was that a lie too?"

He paused, then smiled sweetly, easing her worries. "No. I wasn't lyin' about that. I may not always tell the truth, but I give credit where it's due. You've done great, buddy. All we gotta do is work on your stealth. In time, you may even outshine _me_."

Sole winced at the prospect. "Does that mean I have to shave all my hair off?"

Deacon stopped in his tracks, then threw his head back, laughing so hard he nearly dropped her. He couldn't help but chuckle the whole way back to the Railroad.

 **MacCready** : MacCready rushed to Daisy's shop and handed her the cure for Duncan. He explained the situation, and Daisy was only too happy to help. She promised the cure would reach Duncan, and MacCready cheered, taking his first sigh of relief in what felt like an eternity. He turned to Sole with a outstretched smile, but gasped when he saw her near passed out on the bench.

"Hey, a-are you okay?"

"Yeah..." she wisped, forcing half a smile. "Just tired."

He approached her silently, then took a seat and placed her head on his lap. "You saved my son's life today," he whispered, his eyes damp.

"I'm so glad. I can't ... wait to meet him."

Before she could say another word, she slipped into a deep sleep. MacCready removed his hat and covered her face, shielding her from the light.

"I didn't realize how much this took out of you. I'm real sorry. I ... I'll never be able to thank you for this."

"Don't think you need to," Daisy chimed. "She doesn't seem the type."

MacCready smirked, gently caressing Sole's arm. "I know. I'm not sure what to do with that. She never asked for anything, never once complained. I didn't even realize how tired she was."

"Well, don't beat yourself up over it. For now, just let her rest."

"I will."

With a grateful smile, he lifted her off the bench and headed for Hotel Rexford. He'd pay good caps for the best room they had. He didn't mind. Not anymore. She was worth it.

 **Hancock** : Hancock stood on his balcony, staring out over his town. After learning the truth about McDonough, he needed to vent. He and Sole had just finished clearing out the old warehouses around Goodneighbor, killing every mobster in their wake. He was fuming, teaming with adrenaline and anger, but Sole was spent, weighed down by days of intense travel and travesty. She fell forward, leaning over the edge.

"Hey, you okay sister? He rasped, coming out of his stupor. Sole tilted back, nearly falling over the railing. "Jesus!" he wailed, reaching out and grabbing her arm. "Hey! What the hell is wrong with you?!" He went silent when he saw her face, her eyes lifeless and empty. "Hey. W-what's wrong?" He grasped her hand and shook her gently. "Talk to me, sister. Come on, _talk_ to me!"

"I-I'm sorry," she breathed, weakly squeezing his fingers. "I just blacked out for a second. I'm ... so tired."

"Oh, God. This is my fault, isn't it?"

"No. I'm fine. I just--"

"Shh. Take it easy." He picked her up, quickly but carefully, and carried her into the estate. "You can rest here." He placed her on his bed, pressing her into the pillows. "Do you need anything? Water? Food? Probably food, right?"

"Hancock, I'm fine. Really."

"No you're not. You're exhausted. Ya haven't eaten, ya haven't slept, ya haven't had a moment's peace. And it's my fault. Draggin' ya along on all my steamed-up tirades. Damn it. I didn't even ask if you were hurt durin' the fight."

"It's okay, Hancock. Really. I know how much clearing out those warehouses meant to you. I'm just glad that we ... that we--" She rubbed her eyes, dizzy and completely spent.

"Hang in there, sister. I'll have Cosgrove cook ya up somethin' nice. And, uh, I'll get ya some water and--" He scratched the back of his neck, at a loss for words. "Sorry, sister. Aside from chems, I don't really know what else to offer ya."

Sole giggled, having never seen him so insecure. "You're doing fine, Hancock. A bed and some food is more than enough. And listen, I'm ... I'm sorry about McDonough. I know this must be hard for you."

Hancock grumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I just wish I knew what was what," he whispered, his voice filled with sorrow. "Was it a synth who murdered all those innocent ghouls, or was it my actual brother? Have I been hating him all this time for the wrong reasons?"

"You said you didn't recognize him, right? Maybe it wasn't him."

"Yeah, but ... Guy always let power go to his head. Didn't know how to handle it. There was never a humble bone in his body. While I'd like to think otherwise ... the likelihood that it was him is high."

Sole frowned, sitting up and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "If you want, we can search for him. I have a bunch of records from the Institute. We can sift through them and see if there's anything on your brother."

Hancock smiled, rubbing her hand and laying her back down. "Thanks, sister. That sounds good to me. But let's wait a while, huh? Right now, just rest."

 **Nick** : Nick tossed his files to the floor, grunting angrily. "Damn it! We've spent three days looking through these notes and we still haven't had any luck tracking down Winter's tape!" He punched the desk, his circuits whirring. He wasn't an impatient man, but he _had_ waited two hundred years for this. "That one last tape is all I need! The final piece of the puzzle! So why can't we--?"

He froze, seeing Sole nearly passed out on the floor. She was surrounded by paper, her hands black with pencil from taking notes. He noticed the dark bags under her eyes as she rocked back and forth, barely cognisant. Approaching her slowly, a hundred questions plagued his thoughts. When did she last eat? Two days ago; he was almost certain of that, but how long had it been since she slept? It was easy for him to forget the basic necessities of life, especially when working a case, but that didn't excuse his behaviour. He'd been so demanding, so pushy, so coarse and uncaring, but Sole never complained. Not once.

"H-hey. You all right, kid?"

"Huh?" It took her a second to realize he was talking to her, but she eventually nodded, groaning softly. "Y-yeah. I just ... I'm ... I'm tired." Her eyelids twitched as she struggled to keep them open. "But let's keep going. I ... I think I'm on to something."

Her voice was so weak and quiet that Nick couldn't help but cringe. He sighed remorsefully. If guilt could kill, he'd have shut down right then and there.

"No..." he whispered, gently grasping her hand. "It's not important. We can try again after you've had a break."

He kneeled down and held her tight, lulling her into his chest. She tried to fight him, insisting she was fine, but the moment she was comfortable she slipped into a deep sleep. She was exhausted, hungry, and fevered. Nick bit his lip, muffling a frustrated sob as he picked her up and gently placed her on the sofa. It was his fault, and not because he was a synth who forgot about sleeping and eating, or because he was a detective too dedicated to his work; it was because he was selfish. Plain and simple.

"I'm sorry, kid. I'm so sorry."

He quickly covered her with his trench coat, then collected her notes. He grit his teeth when he realized that she was mapping out the locations where the other holotapes were found. She made several connections and even circled multiple areas where the final tape could be located. He gripped the papers, crunching them with his metal fingers. She was working so hard, to the point of breaking, and he didn't even notice. He didn't even thank her for finding what she had. He had never been more disappointed in himself.

"Damn it, kid. I'm so sorry. Never again. I promise."

He returned to the couch and took a seat next to her, then positioned her head on his lap. He spent the rest of the night stroking her hair and humming 'Am I Blue' to keep her slumber peaceful. He'd apologize again in the morning.


	3. Risqué Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Companions react to Rule 34. ;)

Nick: Goodness. Is that me? I don't even _have_ genitals.

Hancock: I like it. Let the ladies fantasize.

Nick: Or the men, apparently.

Hancock: Men, women, whichever.

Nick: Or, uh ... apparently _us_.

Hancock: Huh?

Cait: (Laughs hysterically) Holy shit, I never knew ya were so close!

Hancock: Whaddaya mean? Let me see! Let me see! Oh, God. Is that _me_ , with _Nick_?

Nick: I think it's supposed to be.

Hancock: Well, damn. (Smiles proudly) Gotta give it to 'em, it's pretty hot.

Cait: Speak for yourself. Look at _that_ one!

Hancock: Is that _you_ , freckles? Ha, ha, ha! What're ya wearin'?

Cait: I think it's me corset.

Deacon: (Snickers) Or what's left of it.

Cait: Oh, ya think this is funny, do ya? Let's see how funny ya find it when _you're_ on the receivin' end. Move it, trash bin!

Deacon: _He_ llo!

Cait: Oh, please. Your abs are _not_ that big. (Grins) _Nothin'_ ya have is that big.

Deacon: Ouch. Can't let a guy enjoy his fame for a _bit_ before knockin' him down?

Cait: Not a chance. (Looks closer) What's that between your legs?

Deacon: I think it's a-- oh, that's funny. It looks like a train. Heh, heh! _Get it_?

Cait: Yeah, we get it. We all get it. (Rolls eyes and clicks new page) Well _there's_ somethin' nice.

Hancock: Ha! Looks like you're finally gettin' the threesome you've always wanted with Diamond City's ace reporter.

Piper: What? Oh. My. God. Get rid of it!

Cait: Why? I kinda like it.

Piper: Of course _you_ do! And why is-- oh, God. Why are there so _many_ of me?

Deacon: (Shrugs) 'Cause you're a pretty girl?

Piper: On a normal day I might find that flattering, but under the circumstances I-- uhh, how would I even _get_ into that position?

Hancock: I'd be glad to show ya.

Piper: _Never_ gonna happen.

Hancock: Calm down, I'm just playin'.

Piper: (Mumbles) How charming.

MacCready: What's a 'cinnamon roll'?

Piper: What?

MacCready: I see it there, by my name.

Piper: It's a pastry, isn't it?

Deacon: I don't think that's what it is in _this_ context.

MacCready: Whatever. Click my images. I'm ... curious.

Cait: Bwahahaha!!!!

Deacon: I didn't know you could do _that_ with a mutfruit!

MacCready: One time, I made that joke. _One time_!

Nick: I guess that's all it took. These people are dedicated.

MacCready: I'll say, look at that. They even added soldier boy, over here.

Danse: That is _not_ proper Brotherhood attire.

Nick: I think they know, Danse. And I don't think they care.

Cait: Look at _that_ one! They even have that prick Maxson! And mostly coupled with _you_!

Danse: Close it! I will _not_ be privy to this!

Cait: Oh, yeah, as if you're hatin' it. I'd say they got it bang on.

Danse: Damn it, I said get rid of it!

Curie: What are we all looking at?

[Group goes silent.]

Hancock: Take a look.

Nick: Hancock, no!

Curie: Oh, mon Dieu! Est-ce _moi_?

Nick: Get outta here, Hancock! Sorry, kid. You okay? That was kind of a shock, huh?

Curie: On the contrary, monsieur Nick. I find it quite fascinating. Human sexuality has always been an area of interest for me.

Hancock: (Grins) Good to know.

Piper: Oh, stop it.

Hancock: (Shrugs) What?

Strong: Why humans being so loud?!

[Group flinches and stares at Strong.]

MacCready: Y-you don't think ... that ... they'd? They wouldn't a-actually--?

Nick: (Searches) My, God....

Piper: Ooh- _kay_. I think that's enough of that.

Nick: That's ... definitely ... _more_ than I expected.

Hancock: Hey. To each his own, right?

Curie: Who wouldn't be a _little_ curious?

Piper: Please, Nicky. I really don't want to look at it. I think I've been scarred enough tonight.

Cait: Just look away, then.

Piper: Where? There's nowhere left _to_ look!

Strong: Stupid humans. Waste of time. Strong leaving!

Codsworth: And I'm coming in. I must know what all the commotion is about. Need I remind you that Sole is _trying_ to sleep?

X6-88: This unit is correct. You are disturbing the peace.

[Group exchanges looks.]

Hancock: Well, we've come _this_ far.

Cait: Why not? Give it a try.

Codsworth: Oh, my! What ... what _is_ this?!

Cait: Can ya actually do that?

Codsworth: Of course I can't!

Cait: ...Not even with an upgrade?

Codsworth: _Ma_ dam!

Piper: Knock it off, Cait.

Cait: Just wonderin'. I mean, who wouldn't be curious?

Hancock: Can't say _I'm_ not.

X6-88: You people really are the lowest of the low.

Hancock: You should join us. It's _fun_ down here.

Cait: Do the courser! Do the courser!

X6-88: No. Refrain from that search.

Cait: Aw, come on. I wanna see! It'd only be fair at this point.

Nick: I guess you've got a point....

X6-88: Unacceptable.

Cait: There's only one of you.

X6-88: That's one too many.

Codsworth: There are _several_ of me. Oh, the humility....

Cait: Don't act like you're not flattered.

Codsworth: Well, it's nice to be included, at least.

MacCready: I still can't get over all the Nick x Hancock pics.

Nick: Yeah, me neither. There's more of us together than with Sole.

Dogmeat: (Sniffs the keyboard) **Rruff**!!

Nick: Don't worry, boy. (Types in name) I doubt there's anything on here with y-- I stand corrected.

Piper: Are you _serious_?!

Nick: (Swiftly clicks backspace) _Never_ look.

Piper: I-I won't.

Deacon: (Squints) What's that off to the side?

Nick: I don't know. I can't quite make out the image.

Hancock: Click it! Click it!

[Whole group goes pale and silent.]

Codsworth: My word....

Piper: Is ... is that a--?

Deacon: Jesus. I can't ... _Jesus!_

MacCready: Maybe we're not seeing it right. Maybe it's a trick. A-a _joke_ of some kind. Click another one.

[Whole group cringes and pulls away.]

X6-88: ...I think I'm finished here.

Piper: (Nauseated) Yep. Me too.

Nick: For once, I agree with the Institute's lapdog.

Hancock: Yeah, that's pretty wild. Even for me.

Curie: I do not even think that's physically possible.

Cait: Not with _that_ attitude.

Piper: Need to work on your humour, Cait.

Deacon: Meh, it's kinda funny. But I'm still gonna turn in.

Nick: Yeah. I think it's time.

MacCready: Hey, let's all agree to _never_ let Sole see these.

[The whole group agrees, going their separate ways. As the room empties, Preston climbs up from under the desk, taking a seat in the computer chair.]

Preston: Augh, what's this?! **_Deathclaw_** porn?! My God. (Opens new search bar) Preston. Garvey.

Screen: Zero results.

Preston: T_T


	4. A New Chapter - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would companions name their baby if they had one with Sole, and how would they react to becoming parents?
> 
> This does not include Strong, Codsworth, or Dogmeat. I've also matched a male SS with the women and a female SS with the men. Additionally, while I know it isn't canon, in this scenario synth-child Shaun was never constructed.

**Cait** : "She wants to stick her what up me what?!" she yelled, stomping about the room.

"Honey, please calm down," Sole begged, reaching for her hand.

Cait pulled away. "Don't ya be tellin' me to calm down! What's this shit I'm hearin'? Her wantin' to stick her fingers up me-- whatever, she knows there's a baby up there! Ain't that enough?!"

"Well, you _are_ in your third trimester."

"I didn't even know what that _meant_ seven months ago!" She huffed, pushing red strands of hair over her forehead. "Look, I've been doin' everythin' she's asked. Eatin' what she says, drinkin' what she says, takin' a _piss_ when she says, but I am _not_ doin' that!"

"Cait, please. It's just to check the position of the baby."

"My parents never did any of this shit, and I was a perfectly healthy baby!"

Sole frowned, crossing his arms, and Cait sensed his disappointment. "Are you really going to compare your pregnancy to your mother's? _Really_?"

Cait bit her lip and repentantly looked down. She rubbed her belly, feeling a kick, then let out a defeated sigh. "You're right. You're from a ... cleaner time. I guess you'd know best. If it's that important to ya ... I'll get the damn check-up."

"It's not for me," he soothed. "It's for the baby. Everything Curie does is to keep it safe. Not to make you uncomfortable."

"Yeah, well, I ain't comfortable. That's for damn sure."

Sole smiled handsomely, closing the gap between them. "Well, we'll just have to do something about that, won't we?"

He gave her a tender kiss, rubbing her back and resting one hand on her stomach. He felt the baby kick and it drew him breathless. Cait could feel his lips curve, and it pleased her to know he was happy. She hadn't planned on getting pregnant, but she couldn't consider it a mistake; not anymore. She struggled for a long time with the idea of being a mother, but Sole helped her through. She was clean; hadn't touched a chem since getting cured, and she was happy.

Sole took her hand and gently sat her on the couch. "I know this has been difficult for you, but you're going to be okay. You're the toughest woman I know."

"And ya really think that's a good quality for a mother to have?"

"Definitely. Especially out here. Kids need a firm hand."

"Well..." she sighed, recalling her days in the cage. "I'm definitely that."

"But that's not _all_ you are. You're also loving, protective, sincere, and I know you're determined to be better than your parents were."

"Damn right!" she bolstered. "This child won't be me. She'll want for nothin'. She'll be loved, she'll belong somewhere, and she'll know it. She'll never have to wonder like I did."

" _She_ , huh?" Sole smirked. "What if it's a boy?"

"What if it's not?" she teased, twisting his hair in her fingers. "Too bad we don't have any of that tech you told me about. The one that tells you the gender before it's born. Sounds sketchy to me, but I guess it came in handy back then, huh?"

Sole shrugged. "I'm happy with it being a surprise." He sat back, taking a moment to ponder. "You know, we haven't discussed names yet. Getting awful close to the due date. We should at least start jotting down ideas and--"

"If it's a boy, Killian. If it's a girl, Briana. Bree for short."

"Just like that? Don't I get a say?"

"Nope."

"Those names are really Irish," he laughed.

"Well, last I heard ya had a fondness for the Irish."

"Indeed I do," he breathed, leaning in. He kissed her once more and carefully laid her on his chest. "Killian and Briana. I can get behind that."

"You're gonna have to, 'cause I ain't changin' me mind." She smirked. She exhaled, releasing the last bit of her temper and enjoying the calmness. "Look, I'm sorry. I know I've been a real bi-- a real nasty sort since gettin' pregnant. I know what ya said, 'hormones' and everythin', but it's more than that. I'm nervous as all hell. Nine months doesn't seem long enough. It's goin' by so fast and I'm not sure I'm ready."

"Can I tell you a secret?" Sole asked, stroking her hair. "No one's ever ready. I wasn't when Nora was pregnant. You'd be _crazy_ if you weren't nervous. I am too, but I'm also happy and excited." He wrapped her in his arms, keeping her warm. "Despite our fears, I have the utmost confidence. In both of us. It's thrilling!"

"It is," she concurred. "Better than any drug." She looked into his eyes. "Thank you, darlin'. Being with ya is the best thing that could have happened to me."

"I feel the same way," he beamed. "Red-hot Irish rage and all. You're everything I want and more, and I know you'll be a great mom."

Cait smiled, moving her hand along his chiselled jaw. "I guess I'd better go to that damn appointment," she groaned. "God damn it."

Sole nodded proudly and helped her off of the couch. "Don't worry. I'll be with you every step of the way. Always."

 **Curie** : Curie traced her hand along her stomach, smiling peacefully. She wasn't the first synth to have a baby, but she felt special nonetheless. A thought crossed her mind: perhaps that's how _all_

mothers feel. She blushed at the notion. A mom. She was going to be a mom. She jumped into Sole's arms excitedly.

"Mon cher! I am so happy!" she giggled, practically hanging off his neck.

"Easy," he said, holding her waist. "Don't throw yourself around too much."

"Do not worry. I know just how much adventure I can take. I promise you the baby and I are in no danger."

Sole smiled, bending down and kissing her abdomen. "Amazing," he whispered. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close and pressing his ear against her skin.

"It will be a while before we hear or feel anything," she advised.

"I know, but I don't care."

Curie gleamed, brushing his hair through her soft fingers. "What should we name it?" she asked, too excited to wait.

"I'm not sure. What do _you_ think?"

She shrugged, running a million possibilities through her head. "Well, I've always liked Maëlle. Or perhaps Capucine or Laëtitia or Lefebvre or Héloïse." She looked down at Sole's wide, fear-stricken eyes, and she quickly realized he couldn't spell or pronounce _any_ of the names she suggested. Curie covered her mouth, embarrassed. "Oh, mon dieu! Pardonne-moi! I sometimes forget that you do not speak French."

"I'm sorry..." he whisked. He stood and walked to the couch, discouraged.

"Do not feel bad," she implored, rushing to his side. "I would not speak it either if I had not been programmed to." She could tell that her words weren't very consoling, and to that she panicked. "Oh, I am so sorry, mon cher! I didn't mean for this to upset you!"

Sole smiled and kissed her suddenly. Surprised by the contact, Curie moaned. She wasn't sure what she had said to deserve such affection, but she didn't argue. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation as he rocked her back and forth. He sat her on his lap, laying her against his chest as he held her stomach.

"I love French," he teased. "If you want a French name, who am I to say no? Just, uh ... be patient with me. I might need some time to learn it."

Curie shook her head. "Actually, I have a better idea. What about Jules?"

"Jules?" he repeated, testing it out.

"Yes, like Jules Verne. My favourite author."

"Ah," Sole grinned, kissing her neck. "I see. I like it. Very sophisticated. And if it's a girl?"

"What do you think of ... Émilie?"

"Émilie." He smiled, frisking her short brown hair. "At least I can pronounce it. Émilie. That's cute. I like it. Who's that after?"

"Émilie du Châtelet."

Sole froze, then laughed loudly. "Of course. Another author, I presume?"

"Mathematician and physicist," she corrected.

Sole shook his head amorously. "Our child will be the smartest kid in the Commonwealth," he breezed. "As long as it takes after you."

"And if it takes after _you_ , it'll be noble and strong and generous and kind and heroic and patient and loving and cunning and--"

"Let's hope it develops _all_ of our good traits," he laughed, touching a finger to Curie's lips.

Curie blushed. "Whatever the case, I just hope it's healthy."

"So do I, ma chérie. But with _you_ as our doctor, I'm not too worried."

 **Piper** : "I can't believe I'm going to be an aunt!" Nat yelled, bouncing about the room. "Me, an _aunt_! Piper, can you believe it?!"

"I'm the one who's pregnant and I'm not even sure _I_ believe it."

"What're you gonna name it?" she pushed, dancing on the couch.

"Nat, get down. And why aren't you at school?"

"How can I go to school when I'm _this_ excited!"

"Nat, please go to school. An education is important and--"

"How about 'Nat Two'?" she laughed, tugging Piper's scarf.

"Nat, please. Listen to me. Mr. Zwicky will be taking attendance, and if you're not--"

"Or Natalyn, or Natania, or Natty, or--!"

Piper shot up, slamming her fist on the dining table. "Nat! _School_! _Now_!"

The jubilant girl froze, shocked by Piper's sudden outburst. "Okay ... sorry. I was just excited. You don't need to tear my head off."

Piper cringed as she watched her sister leave the house, angrily closing the door behind her. Tears formed in her eyes as she fell back on the couch, hiding her face in her hands. Sole, who had been watching silently, took a seat beside her and placed a gentle hand on her back.

"Piper, she was just happy. Did you really have to yell at her?"

"I don't need to hear that right now!" she snapped.

Sole flinched, hearing the pain in her voice. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. What's wrong? Please tell me."

Piper sniffed, rubbing her eyes with her sleeve. "I don't know if I'm ready for this. I mean, I can hardly take care of Nat."

"What do you mean? You've done a great job with Nat. She's tough, she's clever, she's kind. She could kick _my_ ass, if she wanted to. Sometimes even _I _wonder why you send her to school."__

Piper chuckled thickly, stuck between a sob and a smile. "We lead dangerous lives," she began. "You know I'm always worrying about Nat. About what might happen to her if my luck runs out. About who she'll grow up to be and if she'll follow in my footsteps. I don't want this life for her." She gripped her coat, her nails cutting into the red material. "And now I'm pregnant. That's just one more to worry about. To put in danger. I ... I can't do this."

Sole smiled, pulling her closer. "Yes you _can_ ," he moved. "I know you can."

"Not if I keep going like this," she argued. "Not if I keep reporting."

"Do you want to stop?" he asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Yes ... and no. Reporting is all that I'm good at," she whimpered. "I don't know how to do anything else. But if we want this baby to have a chance, a future, I have to stop. I've been meaning to quit for a while now, but I had Nat to think about. I had to keep food on the table somehow."

Sole smiled, kissing her forehead. "Piper, you're not alone anymore. I'm here for Nat too, and I'm here for you. I can get a job here, in Diamond City. As a mechanic or an engineer. That'll put food on the table."

"And me? What do I do? I don't want to put everything on your shoulders."

Sole held her tight. "Well, why don't you write?"

"Write?" she inflected. "Write what?"

"Anything. You're a great storyteller, and the Commonwealth is desperate for entertainment. Why do you think so many people have started collecting pre-war books? Caravans pay good money for them. Fantasy, adventure, horror. You'd be great at it."

Piper sat up, scratching her cheek. "An author, huh?"

"You said you wanted to try it. Back when we first met. Why not see how it goes?"

Piper swayed. It was a good idea, but she wasn't sure. "What if it falls through? What if I suck at it?"

"I don't think you will, but if that's the case, there are a ton of other jobs in the city. Ones that wouldn't put you in danger. Or we could move to Sanctuary, or one of my settlements. There's plenty of work to be done there, and the people all take care of each other. There's always another option, Piper. All you have to do is try."

She smiled, laying back. "Maybe you're right. Maybe this _will_ work out."

"That's my girl." He kissed her lovingly, outlining the freckles on her face.

"I'll have to apologize to Nat. Maybe I'll pick her up from school and buy her one of those sweet roles."

"That's right," Sole rasped, thinking back. "Nat had a good question. What _should_ we name it?"

Piper blushed, names being the last thing on her mind. "She likes to think too far ahead," she waved. "I mean, we can't even see anything yet."

"All the same, I think it's fun." He hugged her waist, and Piper laughed, his hair tickling her sides.

"You're right." She took a moment to ponder. "What about Leland, after my dad?"

Sole tilted his head. "That wouldn't be too hard on you?"

"No. I think it's honourable, and I think Nat would agree."

"It's a good name," he soothed. "Leland. I like it. And if it's a girl?"

"Well, it ain't gonna be 'Nat Two'! I can tell you that much!" They shared a laugh, enjoying the harmonious sound. "What about ... Nellie?"

"Nellie? That's cute. Where'd you get that?"

"I'm not sure. I just like the sound of it."

"Nellie. Nellie. You know what? I love it." He rubbed his cheek against her belly, mumbling like a child. "Hear that, Nellie or Leland? You're going to have a great life. Yes you are. Yes you are."

Piper giggled, petting his head. "Thank you," she breathed. "For everything."

"No, thank _you_ , for making me the happiest man alive." He stood and kissed her fervently, holding them together. "I love you."

Piper ruffled his hair, pulling him onto the couch. "I love you, too."

Together, they picked Nat up after school. She was happy to get a sweet roll, but she wasn't overly fond of the names. They were okay, but she had already decided. The baby would be called 'Nat Two'.

 **X6-88** : X6 was justifiably nervous about being a father. He had come to respect Sole, even love her, but the pregnancy was an accident. One night of lust and passion drove him to his baser desires. He wasn't even aware he had reproductive capabilities, but that didn't matter anymore. Sole was pregnant and there was no turning back.

"What do you think we should name it?" she asked, swirling a solution in a test tube.

He could tell she was excited; _happy_ , even, but that only worried him more. This was her second chance to start a family, and this time live a good life uninterrupted. He wondered if Father would approve. He always respected the man, loved and idolized him, and now he was going to have a child with his mother. With the woman he swore to serve and protect for the future of the Institute. It all sounded wrong. Feeling weak, he took a seat on one of the laboratory chairs and rubbed his forehead.

"You okay?" Sole asked, putting her work aside. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong? What is it?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't compose himself, but she caught on quickly. Since telling him the news he had been distant. More than usual. It was easy to misread him. At that moment, he told her he was happy, but maybe that was a lie.

"You don't ... want this baby, do you?"

He shot up, clutching her arm in a void panic. "Of course I do."

"Do you? Do you _really_? I ... I can't tell."

He groaned and paced the room. "It's not that I don't want it. I just wasn't built for this sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?"

"Fatherhood," he said, retaining his calm.

Sole went silent, but soon chuckled. "No one's _built_ for it. It's just what people do."

"It's not just that," he mumbled, looking away. "You are the head of the Institute now. I'm just a courser. A synth. Many people will not approve."

Sole frowned, slightly offended. "Shaun would."

X6 peered up from under his glasses. "Do you truly believe that?"

"I do," she answered quickly. "I didn't know him for long ... but I could tell he liked to push the limits. He probably would've _celebrated_ this. He was proud of you." She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "And you know what? I don't give a damn what anyone else thinks. I love you and you love me, and there's nothing wrong with that." 

He touched her cheek, but quickly pulled away. "Many people within the Institute will oppose this. We're not supposed to have emotions."

"But you do. You _all_ do. It's stupid to deny it. In fact, I've been meaning to make some changes around here."

"Changes?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Nothing horrifying, I promise. But I don't see the point in enslaving synths and stripping them of their emotions."

X6 frowned, his variance brimming. "Is that not the entire point of our existence? To serve and save humanity in the long run?"

"There are many ways to do that," she sighed. "You can save us without serving us. Shaun understood that, in the end. We actually discussed this before he ... passed away." X6 lowered his head, a hint of sorrow escaping him. "And there are loads of people here who agree with that sentiment. It won't be an overnight change, but I thoroughly believe I can make things better for everyone."

X6 paused, then smiled and held her waist. "I also believe that. But I still don't know if I'm ready to be a father. All I know is killing. Hunting. Following orders. Our child will never want for anything. Growing up in the Institute will make them strong, superior, intelligent ... but none of that will come from me." He turned away and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "There is nothing I can offer that would benefit our child's life."

"How about your love?" Sole smiled, joining him. He looked perplexed, but she was happy to explain. "This isn't a math equation, X. Kids don't care about inheriting their father's traits. I mean, they emulate them, of course, but what they really care about is love. They just want you to be there for them. To protect them. To show them how much you care." Her lips quivered as she faced the floor. "I failed the first time. I lost Shaun. _Twice_. I don't intend to make that mistake again."

X6 sighed, taking her hand and leading her to the bench at the end of the lab. "You didn't fail. Father was proud of you. More than anyone. Even me. You're _exactly_ the woman he hoped you'd be."

Sole smiled, wiping her dampening eyes. "Thank you."

"I can offer my love," he said, his gaze solemn. "But I may need help with everything else."

Sole nodded, patting his leg. "We all do," she laughed. "Parenting isn't easy. You're not the only one who's nervous, but you're strong and ambitious and intelligent. I know you'll be a good father. I'll be with you, every step of the way, but somehow I think you'll be all right."

X6 scratched his nose, hiding his rosy cheeks. He didn't usually blush. He never felt embarrassed. He shrugged at the notion. Maybe he was just going soft. Maybe that came with being a father.

"Thank you," he hummed, his voice kind and quiet.

Sole laughed and touched her stomach. "You didn't answer my question," she beamed.

"In regard to what?" he asked, confused.

"Its name," she pressed, leaning against his shoulder. "What do you want to name it?"

"Isn't it a bit early to be thinking of names?"

Sole shrugged. "But I think it's fun."

"I'm not very good at this sort of thing," he admitted. He held her close, almost apologetically. "I'm not very ... creative."

"Aw, come on. Give it a shot. I want to see what you come up with."

X6 sighed. He sat in silence for a long time before coming up with a name, but Sole was patient. She knew he wasn't the most imaginative man, but she also knew he cared about the baby, just as he cared for her. He'd take his time, but whatever he decided would be glorious. She was certain of that. When something came to mind, he brushed her cheek, peering into her eyes.

"Designation--" Her mouth dropped at the word. "Just kidding," he teased, sporting that minuscule smile. "Ha, ha, ha."

Sole nudged him gently, shaken by his dark sense of humour. "Very funny," she groaned. "I hope you picked a name to go with it."

"Actually, I was thinking 'Simone' might be nice."

"Simone?" Sole asked, sitting up. She repeated it over and over, the name sliding off her tongue. "That's beautiful," she grinned. "I'm impressed."

"You won't be when you find out why."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Sim one," he explained. "It's ... all I could think of."

Sole's brows arched, her heart aching for him. "Hey, you know what?" She pulled his jacket and kissed him passionately. "That was pretty creative. Sim one? Simone? I never would have guessed that." X6 kissed her back, gratefully accepting her praise. "Oh, but what if it's a boy? And don't think 'Simtwo' is an option, because it's not."

He chuckled, taking a moment to think. "Jackson," he murmured, cupping his chin. "Yes, Jackson."

"That's a nice name," she inflected, amazed that he came up with it so quickly. "But, why Jackson?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I've always liked that name. I don't know why."

Sole smiled and laid peacefully against his chest. "Now that I think about it, _you_ also need a name."

"Me?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah. I mean, 'X6-88' isn't a name, it's a designation. Our child can't go around calling you 'X' or 'X6' or 'X6-88'."

"Wouldn't it call me 'father'?"

Sole blushed, stammering on her words. "Y-yes. I mean, of course, but--"

"Why do I get the feeling you want me to have a name?"

"Y-you caught me," she giggled, hoping her innocence would soften the blow.

"Very well," he decided, having no particular attachment to his designation. "How about Xavier?"

Sole's eyes sparkled. "That's a wonderful name! What made you pick that?"

The question seemed to shatter his walls. He shot her the most grief-stricken look she had ever seen, and it worried her. It was an emotion she never thought she'd see. Not from him.

"Father ... used to call me that when we were alone. He gave most of us names, actually. It was easier for him to remember."

Sole choked, feeling a profound pain in her chest. Then she smiled and curled up against him. "Xavier. It's a good name. A _great_ name. Xavier and Simone."

"Or Jackson," he pointed out, pulling her onto his lap.

"Or both," she proposed, looking up at him.

She saw his eyes shine through his glasses as he kissed her forehead.

"Or both," he agreed. "Someday, maybe even more."

 **Preston** : Preston took the news of Sole's pregnancy well. Although it wasn't planned, he couldn't have been happier. Or prouder. He loved Sole and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Having children was something they discussed, it just happened to arise sooner than expected.

"I can't believe I'm going to be a dad," he wisped, making his rounds with Sole. "I'm excited, but also kind of scared."

" _You_?" she quipped, tipping his hat. "The great Preston Garvey of the Minutemen? The man who constantly throws himself in front of enemy fire to save total strangers?"

"That was before," he swayed, grabbing the rim. "Before you and that unborn child. Before I had any niche for life." He sighed softly, his past overshadowing the mood. "I had no problem sacrificing myself for a stranger, because after Quincy, deep down, I wanted to give up."

"You know that's not true," she pressed, stopping him in his tracks. "You were selfless even before that. I know you've been through a lot, but your decision to help others was never selfish or stemmed from grief. It's just who you are."

Preston smiled, rolling Sole's hair around finger. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Sole laughed, slapping his back and continuing their rounds. "You'd be a mess," she teased. "A big, heroic mess."

"I hear that. But my point still stands. I can't be putting myself in danger anymore. Not the way I have been. I still want to stay with the Minutemen, but field assignments might be too cavalier. I don't want to leave my child fatherless. I know what that feels like."

"You never really talk about your parents," she broached, ready to drop the subject if he deemed it too painful. "I mean, I never asked. I figured there was a reason you never brought it up. If you don't want to talk about it--"

"It's all right. Truth be told, there isn't much to tell. Typical Commonwealth story. You've heard thousands like it." He took a breath, recalling the incident. "I didn't see much of my parents. They were usually out savaging for food and supplies. We lived in the middle of a barren wasteland, so it was difficult to sustain ourselves. One day, they decided to take me with them and teach me self preservation. While showing me how to draw water from the land, we were attacked by raiders. They told me to run while they distracted them. So like a coward, I ran. I never saw them again."

Sole swallowed her heartache, greatly disturbed. "But, that means they could still be alive, right?"

He shook his head. "I doubled back after a few hours but everything was gone, except blood in the dirt. I searched for years but ... I've accepted their deaths. They were out-manned, outmanoeuvred, and outgunned. There were only two options. The raiders sold them into slavery or they took their bodies for ... nourishment."

"Oh my _God_ , Preston." Sole sobbed, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight. "That's ... that's horrible! I-I don't know what else to say. Surely you don't blame yourself. How old were you?"

"Nine."

"Preston, there was _nothing_ you could have done."

"I know that now, but it was still a shitty feeling. I spent a long time wishing I had stayed. Damn the consequences."

Sole wiped her eyes and comfortingly touched his face. "I don't mean to sound selfish, but I'm glad you didn't."

He moaned, keeping her hand against his cheek. "Me too," he confessed. "I never thought I would be, but I am."

Sole smiled, hugging him tight. "Nine years old. I'm so sorry, Preston. How did you survive?"

"I found a settlement. There were good people there and they took care of me, but I never really belonged to anyone. They gave me my own shack and kept me fully stocked and only asked me to work what a kid can be expected to work. They never took advantage of me, even though they could have."

"I'm glad," Sole said, coaxing him to sit with her on a nearby step to an abandoned house. "Still, it must have been rough."

"Yeah. We were attacked by raiders and supermutants more than once. Lost some people, had to relocate a couple times. It really put things into perspective for me. People needed help; _we_ needed help, but no one helped us. Not until the Minutemen caught wind of it. I was fifteen at the time. Hollis saved my life. Hell, he and his men saved the entire town. When he offered me his hand, I knew right then and there that I'd found my calling. I gathered as many supplies as I could and trained hard in the ways of combat. When I turned seventeen, I joined the Minutemen. The rest you know."

"I'm sorry, Preston. I had no idea. I mean, I knew you had it hard, but I had no idea. I'm glad Hollis found you."

"I really admired him," he said, his voice soft and lonesome. "The man was a saint, willing to sacrifice everything if it meant saving one more life." He looked at the ground, spreading the dirt with his boot. "I miss him. And I don't want my child to feel that kind of pain."

"No one will blame you, Preston. I plan on taking it easy, too."

"Really?" he asked, astonished.

"Well, easi _er_ ," she grinned. "We don't have to stop helping people. Our children will understand. But no matter what, they'll _always_ come first. I can still manage the Minutemen and you can still keep your eye on settlements. We just have to set some boundaries. I think our children will be proud of that."

"Children?" he sung, pulling her into his chest. "As in plural?"

Sole blushed, pressing her hands against his faded duster. "Well, I mean, why not? Wouldn't you like that? A bunch of little Minutekids?"

Preston laughed his mellow laugh and kissed her forehead. "Sounds good to me."

"I guess we'll have to think of names," she reiterated.

"Ah," he breezed. "Right, of course. Sorry, love. I didn't mean for this conversation to become so dark."

"No," she soothed, resting on his shoulder. "I'm glad you shared that with me. I'm just sorry I made you relive it."

He shook his head. "No matter how bad I've had it, It was all worth it to get to you."

Sole flinched, sniffing back her tears. "I feel the same way about you. I love you, _so much_."

He returned her affection with another devoted kiss. "So names," he blushed. "What do you think of Lavender?"

"Lavender?"

"Yeah. It was my grandmother's name. She was the sweetest woman you'd ever know. When my parents were away she'd play with me and keep me safe. She taught me how to cook and defend myself. Taught me honour and respect, but she also taught me to be cautious and stealthy. I don't have a lot of good childhood memories, but I remember her clear as day. She meant everything to me. Passed away when I was seven-- natural causes-- but I carry her lessons everywhere, even now."

She smiled, wrapping her arm around his, linking them together. "I love it. It's adorable. Little Lavender."

"And if it's a boy, how about Marshall?"

Sole took a minute to consider. "Don't think I know any Marshalls. I like it. It's an older name, yet unique. Marshall. Yeah, that's perfect!"

"Well all right." Preston chuckled, then lifted her up and swung her around. He kissed her fervently, holding her in his arms, and Sole moaned at the sudden contact. When he pulled away he saw the surprise on her face. "Hey. I can be exciting if I want to."

"Screw anyone who says otherwise," she laughed.

They kissed again, lost in each other's embrace as the sun slowly faded in the night sky.


	5. A New Chapter - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would companions name their baby if they had one with Sole, and how would they react to becoming parents?

**Danse** : Danse had turned into an overprotective stiff. A month had barely past since Sole told him she was pregnant, but already he acted like she was made of glass. He helped her stand and sit, carried her from place to place, even tried to feed her. At one week into the new month she finally hit her limit. While cutting a mutfruit, he carefully slid the knife from her fingers and moved in, continuing where she left off.

"Danse, please. I can do this myself. I appreciate it, but--"

"I have to insist," he said, slicing through. "No point in risking an injury."

"Danse ... I don't like it cut that way. I like it in slivers, not cubes. The flavour's too overpowering in cubes."

"All right," he said, changing his motions; but all he did was mutilate the fruit further.

"Danse, please. Give me the knife."

"I got it," he mumbled, carrying on.

She grabbed his arm, cautious of the blade. "Danse, just give me the knife."

"I'm almost finished," he bellowed, his tone impatient.

Sole grit her teeth, annoyed. "Damn it, Danse! I can make my own food!"

"I'm not letting you do this!" he shrieked, yanking his arm from her grip.

The sudden shrill ferocity of his voice caused Sole to draw back. She quivered fearfully as tears formed in her eyes. Danse stopped his activities, staring at her in shock. He couldn't believe he yelled at her. He dropped the knife on the counter and reached out to apologize, but Sole cringed and turned away.

"I'm sorry, I--"

"What's _wrong_ with you?" she cried, sprinting into the next room.

Danse followed, panicking the whole way. They had shared a house ever since Danse was banished from the Brotherhood, but Sole ran to her old place a few blocks down. Danse hurriedly removed his power armour, leaving it by her doorstep, then rushed inside. When he reached her room he paled, hearing her soft whimpers. He knocked on the doorframe, but she didn't respond. He didn't know what to do so he peeked in, seeing her slouched on her bed, her face buried in her hands. He felt terrible, like he had cracked a priceless jewel or ripped a famous painting.

"Can I come in?" he asked, diffidently. Sole looked up, her teary eyes breaking his heart. "I'm ... I'm so sorry. Can I _please_ come in?" 

Sole sniffed. She couldn't speak, so she simply nodded. Danse tiptoed in and took a seat next to her, but she didn't look at him. He tried to touch her shoulder but she pulled away, awkwardly adjusting her hair.

"Please don't cry," he begged, giving her some space. "I didn't mean to yell at you. I just ... didn't want you to cut yourself."

"It's not just about the food, Danse! Ever since I told you about the baby you've been acting weird. Treating me like a caged animal. You don't want me doing _anything_. You don't want me in the field, you don't want me wandering Sanctuary, you don't want me taking a walk through the forest; even though it's teeming with defences. You don't even want me upgrading guns because 'something could happen'. You won't let me clean, you won't let me cook, you won't let me feed myself. You're smothering me!"

A chill set in as goosebumps stung the back of his neck. "I-I'm sorry!" he stumbled. "I ... I just want you to be safe!"

"I _am_ safe! Give me some credit. You have to let me take care of myself. Let me do things. I won't let you control my every move. I can't live like that!"

"I'm not trying to control you, I just--"

"Just now, in the kitchen, you said you weren't going to 'let' me cut my own food."

"I-I didn't mean it like that." He brushed his forehead, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I'm not like that," he swore. "I'm not ... controlling. I--"

"I'm not one of your soldiers, Danse. I'm your _partner_. You know I'm capable of taking care of myself. You've seen it. So why are you being so unreasonable?"

He pulled his collar, shaken by the deep conversation. "I'm not trying to be. I just can't...."

"You can't what?" she pressed, staring intently.

"I can't, I can't--!" He took a breath, her expression flustering him further.

"What?" she yelped. "What's going on with you, Danse? Please, just _talk_ to me!"

He lunged forward, grabbing her arms and pulling her into his shoulder. "I can't lose you!" he screamed. Sole froze, feeling his hand tremble against the back of her head. "I'm not ... a soldier anymore. I'm not Brotherhood. I'm not _human_. Everything and everyone I knew and cared for is gone, except you. And now, with the baby, all I want to do is keep you safe ... but I don't know how. I know you can take care of yourself, but I can't shake the feeling. Every time you step outside it scares me to death. You're all I have left."

Sole stiffened her lip, holding back her tears. "Oh, Danse. Is that was this is about?"

He held tighter, refusing to let go. "I'm sorry for how I've been acting lately. I just don't want to lose you, or the baby."

She rubbed his back, then pulled away and took his face into her hands. "Listen to me. I don't mean to sound harsh, but you didn't 'lose' the Brotherhood. They abandoned you. When they found out you were a synth, they chose to ignore everything you did for them and toss you aside."

He looked away, wracked with guilt and pain. "I'm afraid of _that_ , too. Now that I know I'm a machine, I--"

Sole cupped his chin, forcing his gaze. "The fact that you're a synth means nothing to me. I'm never going to leave you, Danse. Not because of that. I promise."

"I don't think I could survive it," he confessed. "That's why I've been acting so ... ridiculous lately." He shook his head, trying to regain some composure. "I'm just so frustrated. Worrying if it'll be a problem. If our child will resent having a synth as a father. I just want to be a good husband. A good parent. A good man...."

Sole smiled lovingly. She finally understood.

"You've been trying to compensate," she whispered, caressing his cheek. She fixed her eyes with his. "But you have nothing to compensate for. You're perfect, Danse. I love you and our child will love you, too. Man or synth, it doesn't matter. You're a great husband and I know you'll be a great father. _That's_ what's important."

He closed his eyes and traced his fingers along her wrist. "I was afraid of pushing you away, but that's exactly what I've been doing, isn't it? I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she soothed, giving him a gentle kiss. "I accept you fully. You know that, don't you?"

He bowed his head in shame. "Yes. I never should have doubted that."

She smiled brightly. "And it's natural to feel protective of your loved ones, but do you think you can at least let me cut my own food?"

"Jesus," he flinched. "I'm sorry about that. I've been acting like a damn fool."

"It's okay," she beamed, kissing him once more. "I forgive you."

Danse smiled back and placed a hand on her stomach. "Alexander."

"What?"

"You asked me yesterday what I wanted to name it. What do you think of 'Alexander'?"

Sole flicked her hair from her face, her cheeks finally dry. "It's a beautiful name."

Danse laughed and sat back against the bed frame. In one quick motion, he laid Sole against him and covered her with the bed sheets. He knew she was tired; she had been up since the crack of dawn, and he hadn't made things easy for her. As she relaxed, he kissed the top of her head, taking in her floral scent and tracing his fingers down her arm.

"What if it's a girl?" he asked, holding her close.

"I don't know. What do you think?"

He took a moment to consider. "How about Sophie? I've always been partial to that name."

Sole sighed softly, a smile forming on her lips. "I love that name. It's so cute."

"You're all right with those name?" he asked, desperate for her opinion.

"Yes. They're both good, strong names."

Danse smiled and rested his head on her shoulder. "Then I'm glad. I really am sorry for how I've been acting. I promise, no more."

Sole chuckled and snuggled closer, smelling his aftershave. "Thank you. And hey, tomorrow I was thinking of visiting Abernathy's. They don't know about the baby and I think they'd be really happy."

Danse exhaled loudly. "I ... I won't stop you, but please don't take any unnecessary risks. I know it's a pretty safe trail, but--"

"Danse," Sole laughed, looking up at his anxious face. "I want you to go with me."

"You do? I mean, are you sure?"

"Absolutely. I just want you to trust me. Let me have a bit of freedom. I'm not a glass figurine, but there's nothing wrong with wanting to keep me safe. Just ... moderation, you know?"

Danse grinned and tickled her with the scruff of his beard, and Sole laughed endearingly. "I understand. I promise I'll do better."

"I know you will." She tucked herself under his arm, her eyelids fluttering. "I'm so tired."

"Sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up. I'll always be here." 

"Me too," she breezed. "You'll never be alone again."

Danse felt his chest tighten. He let out a gentle sob as she slipped into a peaceful slumber. "Thank you," he wisped, wrapping his arms around her. "I love you."

 **Deacon** : Deacon nearly did a cartwheel when Sole told him the news. Literally-- he tried but fell over. She worried he might be discouraged, considering his past, but he couldn't have rejoiced more. He jumped about, clapping his hands and spinning in circles like a child. 

"I'm gonna be a dad!" he screamed, grabbing Sole's hand and dancing around the bedroom. "A dad! _Me_! A _dad_!"

"Shh! Deacon, keep it down. No one else knows yet."

"Are you kiddin' me?" He picked her up and spun her around in his arms. "I'm gonna tell the whole world! I'm gonna shout it from the rooftops!"

Sole laughed, hugging his neck for purchase. "Slow it down," she wheezed. "You know I get dizzy."

"Sorry, sorry!" he said, laying her on the couch. "I'm just so happy!"

"I'm glad," she whisked, grasping his hand. "I just found out yesterday, and I was worried you might be ... concerned."

"Concerned?" he parroted, arching his brow. "Why?" Sole flinched, remaining silent. "Ooh. Because of ... because of Barb and the UPDs." He sighed, taking a seat next to her. "Yeah. I wish that were another elaborate lie. But ... it's in the past now. I'm a new man, and this time I'm gonna do things right. I promise."

Sole smiled, leaning against his arm, and he held her tight. "I know. I'm just sorry to remind you of it."

"Don't worry about it," he sung. "I'm an easygoin' guy. I fix my mistakes and I move on. And I wanna move on with you." He kissed her hair. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She brushed his cheek, his five o'clock shadow tickling her hand.

"And as far as being 'concerned', the only thing I'm concerned about is your health."

"I'm perfectly healthy," she promised. "Carrington gave me a full exam."

"Aw, you're goin' with that quack as your doctor?"

Sole slapped him playfully. "He may be a sanctimonious ass, but he knows what he's doing."

"That's true," Deacon admitted. "There's no doctor I trust more. Just, uh ... try not to be too offended by his shitty bedside manner."

Sole laughed. "I won't. Actually, he seemed pretty excited about it. He even suggested we pick names."

"Really? He did? Already?"

"He said it's a good thing to get out of the way, so we don't stress over it later."

"'Stress' over it? 'Get it out of the way', like throwin' out your old clothes? Pfft. Only he would use those words to describe something so fun and glorious."

"No kidding," she groaned. "But what do you think? Want to pick some names?"

"You're damn right I do!" he jittered. He sat silently, scrolling through the list in his mind. "What about James?" he winked, scratching his nose.

" _James_?" Sole mocked, crossing her arms. "Like James _Bond_? The popular spy from before my era?"

Deacon cocked half a smile. "Wow, was he that popular? I only know about him because I found some old, pre-war books. Ha, ha!" He could feel her disenchantment. "Seriously, though. I honestly _love_ that name. So sophisticated and gallant. Do you ... actually hate it?"

Sole blinked, then giggled fondly. "No. I love it. I've actually always loved it. My brother's name was supposed to be James, but he ended up being a girl. Imagine my mother's surprise when she found out." She sat back, shaking her head. "And the doctor was so sure, too."

"Oh, hey, what if it's a girl?!" Deacon yelled, his excitement flailing. "Yeah, a little girl. Just like you. We can only hope."

Sole blushed, humbled by his words. "Well, what do you think?"

Deacon hummed. He used a lot of pseudonyms, so coming up with a list of names was easy, but this was important. This was his _child_. He wanted it to be perfect. Strong but feminine. Something that told the boys not to mess with her, because she was the daughter of Deacon and the Hero of the Commonwealth.

"Carmen!" he declared. "Yeah, I like that name."

Sole smiled in agreement. "A beautiful name."

"A tough name. A bright name. A name worthy of our daughter."

"Or son," she pitched, poking his cheek.

"Or son," he blushed, feeling at peace for the first time in a long time. "You know, speakin' of names, you still don't know mine."

Sole paused, then shrugged carelessly. "Whoever you were, you're Deacon now."

"I agree," he smirked, brushing back her hair. "But just for shits 'n giggles--"

He leaned in, whispering into her ear. Sole's eyes sparkled as a smile filled her face. She pulled away, then took his hand into hers, shaking it gently.

"It's nice to meet you. But ... I think I like 'Deacon' better."

He laughed, closing the gap between them and kissing her softly. "You know what? I think I do, too."

"You realize this also means you can't keep telling lies, right? I won't have my kids growing up with that kind of influence."

"I give you my word," he vowed. "I'm a liar, but I'll never lie to you, or my children."

She giggled, lining his lips with her thumb. "I believe you," she whispered.

He smiled and kissed her again. "Thank you," he breathed. "I never thought I would, but I actually care about that. I wanna be someone you trust. That ... really means a lot to me."

"I love you," Sole beamed. "And I trust you implicitly."

Deacon sniffed, rubbing his eyes. "Aw, stop it. You're gonna make me cry."

With a grin, he picked her up again and slowly danced her around the room. His face lit up, bashful and excited. He had never told so many truths in his entire life. It felt good. It felt achievable. He looked at Sole, her face glowing in the moonlight. With her, he knew he'd never have to lie again. Except for work, of course.

 **MacCready** : Sole entered the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. MacCready was taking a hot bath, exhausted from another long day of work. He smiled up at her, touching a hand to her belly. There was hardly a bump there, but he wanted to feel it nonetheless. He filled with a sense of pride as she stroked his hair. He didn't know how he got so lucky, but for the first time in a long time he was happy.

"I put Duncan to bed," she whispered. "Little guy went out like a light."

"Thanks for doing that," he beamed. "I don't know what it is about you, but he _never_ does that for me. Must be your overwhelming charm."

"Must be," she joked, placing her hand over his. "So, what do you want to name it? Any ideas?"

"Truthfully? I wanted to name Duncan 'Junior', but when Lucy suggested 'Duncan', I couldn't say no. She loved that name and it was perfect. Anyway, I guess 'Junior's' a bit narcissistic, huh?"

Sole shook her head. "Robert Jr., huh? That has a nice ring to it. But what if it's a girl?" she asked, cocking half a smile.

"A _girl_?" He felt ridiculous. How could he forget that there was a fifty-fifty chance? "Damn, I hadn't thought of that. I'm not sure what I'd do with a girl."

"Pretty much the same thing you do with a boy," she laughed.

"Yeah? What about all the ... girly stuff?"

"If it makes you _that_ uncomfortable, I think I can handle it when the time comes."

"No, no. I'm supposed to be her father, right? I want her to be able to come to me for anything. Even if ... I have no idea what the hell I'm talking about."

Sole grinned, kissing his nose. "How about this: if it's a girl, you teach her how to shoot and I'll teach her the 'girly' things. Everything else, we'll share. Deal?"

MacCready smiled, pulling her into the tub. Sole gasped, splashing the water, the bubbles tickling her sensitive spots as her dress soaked to her body. She told him to stop, but he couldn't. He loved hearing her laugh uncontrollably. When she couldn't take anymore he held her close, locking their lips in a sensual kiss.

"Deal," he hummed, hugging her waist. "Actually, I think I prefer a girl. I know what it's like having a bunch of boys running around. Fighting, arguing, rough-housing." He shuddered at the thought.

"Duncan's not like that. He's the sweetest little boy I know."

"That's because he's a baby," he teased. "He can barely walk. But just wait. Soon he'll have teeth and claws and he'll tear around the house like a deathclaw."

Sole shook her head. "Stop it. I think he'll make an excellent brother, whatever the baby turns out to be."

"You're probably right. You always are. So that just leaves me. Things didn't turn out so well the first time around, but--" He lowered his head, remembering Lucy and how Duncan almost died.

Sole shot him a sympathetic glare, then caressed his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere," she promised. "And you're already a damn good father. Remember, things didn't exactly go great for me the first time either. We can't control the future, but we can control who we are. As long as we put our children first, as long as we love them and do everything we can to keep them safe, we can't fail as parents."

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared. But you're right. Even if things take a turn for the worst, we'll be there. Maybe that's enough."

"It is. Believe me. All kids really want is to be loved and for their parents to be there for them."

"I hear that. I know what it's like to grow up without it. No matter what, our kids will know that we love them."

"Yeah." Sole sat back, laying against his chest, and MacCready stoked her hair affectionately. "You know, I think we'll be okay."

"Yeah. Me too."

Sole drifted off, drowsed by the warm water. "So, if it is a girl, what do you want to name her?"

"Hmmm. How about 'Junior', after you?"

Sole laughed, playfully hitting his chest. She thought he was joking, but he was completely serious. He hugged her tightly, scrubbing bubbles into her hair. They'd discuss it again in the morning.

 **Hancock** : Hancock stood in silence, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. His eyes were so wide that Sole couldn't tell if he was happy or upset. For the first time since she met him, he was speechless. She stepped a bit closer, repeating the news, but it didn't seem to connect. While he took a moment to process, Sole curled her lips, growing more and more anxious. She went to speak again, but he cut her off unintentionally.

"Sunshine! Are ya , are ya _sure_?" he slurred, his knees weak.

"Definitely. I had Curie test me six times."

He looked at Curie, desperate for answers. "But ghouls can't reproduce! Their gametes are completely ruined. _You're_ the one who told me that!"

"Oui, but at the time I was unaware that you did not become a ghoul through archetypal means," Curie explained. "Your body is somewhat different. While the chances of it happening were near non-existent, somehow you beat the odds." She folded her hands, resting them on her chest. "Isn't it wonderful, monsieur Hancock? You're going to be a papa!"

Hancock paled, which only worried Sole more. "John? Are you--?"

Before she could say another word he ran into her arms, hugging her tight. She heard him sob, but before she could remark on his state he pressed his lips into hers, stifling a mess of moans stuck between cries and laughter. He cupped her head, holding her close as he stared into her eyes.

"Unbelievable..." was all he could muster.

"You're ... not upset?"

" _Upset_?!" he screamed, kissing her again. He couldn't stop. He worked his way from her lips to her cheeks to her chin, then back to her lips. "Why would I be upset, Sunshine?"

She shrugged. "Honestly, I wasn't sure _how_ you'd take it. We both accepted that we couldn't have kids. We had a whole conversation about it. You said you were happy without them."

He clutched her hands, enjoying the feel of her soft, smooth skin. "I _am_ happy," he beamed. "But this make me happy, too! How could it not?! I'm gonna be a _dad_!" Sole lowered her head, hiding beneath her hair, and his smile quickly faded. "W-why? Aren't you happy?" He gripped her shoulders, feeling her tremble against him. "Sunshine? Do ... do you not want this?"

If he weren't holding her so tight he'd slap his head. She was probably terrified, having lost Shaun, and now finding out that she'd have to raise a child in the filth that was the Commonwealth. He bit his jagged lip, nearly drawing blood. He wanted to keep the baby, more than anything, but not if it meant hurting her. Not if it meant reminding her of her past everyday, leaving her cheerless and devastated.

"Sunshine, if you don't want this baby--"

She took a deep breath, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "J-John, of _course_ I want it!" She rubbed her cheeks, nearly choking on her words. "I'm just so happy you do, too!"

She sobbed loudly, barely able to catch her breath. She tried to speak but couldn't, lost in pure jubilance. Hancock tied to dry her tears, but the attempt was pointless. Before he knew it he was crying too, infected by her irresistible joy. Curie watched as they wept into each others shoulders. Nothing was said for what seemed like an eternity. The silence was all they needed.

"I will leave you two alone," Curie chirped, turning away.

"Wait!" Hancock begged, his eyes shimmering. "It's not, uh, it's not going to be-- you know-- a _ghoul_ , is it?" He wasn't concerned, just curious.

"I do not think so, monsieur Hancock. The sperm would have needed to be healthy to merge with a healthy host. I believe your baby will be fully human."

"But if not, it won't make a difference," Sole poked. "We'll love it all the same."

"Aw, I wasn't worried. Just wonderin' who he'd get his good looks from."

Sole giggled, ruffling his collar. "Or she."

"Or she!" Hancock echoed, nearly jumping at the prospect. "A beautiful girl, just like her mother." Curie smiled and turned to leave, but Hancock stalled her once more. "Wait! Is _she_ going to be okay?"

"Pardon?"

"I mean, will the pregnancy be ... difficult? I _am_ a ghoul, after all. I'll be-- Jesus, I'll be the first ghoul to ever reproduce!" He began to fret, nibbling his thumb. "We have no idea what kind of effect this could have on her. What if ... what if she gets sick? What if--?"

"John, I'll be fine. Curie's agreed to be my doctor throughout the entire pregnancy."

"Oui. And as far as I can tell there are no issues. She's been pregnant for several weeks, and thus far she's experiencing exactly what a typical woman would experience." Hancock shivered, uncertain. "There is no reason to worry, monsieur Hancock. You have my word."

Sole smiled, gently pinching his ear. "I don't think that's it, Curie. I think the nerves are just kicking in."

"Ah, you are nervous. Do not worry, monsieur Hancock. I promise you she is in good hands."

Hancock smiled, feeling slightly relieved. "Thank you, Curie."

"You are most welcome. And now, I bid you adieu. I am certain you have much to discuss."

With Curie gone, Hancock smirked and lightly pulled Sole onto the couch. He kissed her zealously, like it was the first time, then positioned her on his lap, resting her head on his chest.

"Guess it's a good thing I quit chems," he quipped. "A father. I can't believe it."

"Me neither," Sole sighed, almost in a trance. "I never thought I would get this chance again."

"And you're truly happy?" he asked, slowly brushing his knuckles up and down her arm.

"Truly," she whisked, closing her eyes. "Thank you, John. Thank you for this. Thank you for everything."

"Nah," he soothed, kissing her hair. "That's my line."

"We'll have to think of a name," she beamed, curling into him.

"How about _your_ name?"

" _My_ name? John, we're not naming the baby after me."

"Why not? I wanna name it after the person I love most." Sole shook her head, ignoring his witty charms. "All right," he rasped, a throaty chuckle escaping his lips. "How about ... Cassidy?"

"Cassidy?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Or Cass, for short."

"Where'd you get that name?" she asked, impressed by his answer.

"I don't know. It just feels right, for some reason. We're startin' this new chapter in our lives and I want our daughter to have a good, strong name. A name that will change lives and bring hope to the people of the Commonwealth. 'Cass' just does that for me."

Sole giggled, inspired by the choice. "And if it's a boy?"

"Lincoln," he said, without missing a beat.

"Like Abraham Lincoln?"

"Who else?" he grinned, teeming with pride. "Of the people for the people!"

Sole laughed, giving him one last kiss before dozing off. She spent so long worrying about his reaction that she completely wore herself out. As she slept, Hancock hummed a harmonious tune, rocking her in his arms. He was done running away; he knew that the moment he fell in love with her, but now he had something to run toward, with Sole running right alongside him.

 **Nick** : "Hey, Nick? The other day, when you mentioned children, were you serious?"

Nick lowered his case file, his sallow eyes burning bright. "I'm sorry. I knew it was too soon to bring it up."

"No, no, it's not. I really want to know. I was just taken aback, is all. And when the raiders showed up ... we never really finished talking about it."

"Well, uh ... we've been together for a long time now. And I just thought, if I transfer into a gen three body, maybe it might be nice."

"I thought you weren't sure about the transfer."

"I ... I'm not. So many things could go wrong. But I am sure about one thing." He stood, then met her at the couch. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I might not be able to do that ... as a machine."

Sole smiled, forcing him to face her. "Yes you can. It doesn't matter _what_ you are. Man, synth, gen two, gen three, I don't care. I love you. If you want to stay this way, I support it. And if you want to change, I support that too. Whatever you decide. Either way, I want you to know that I'm happy."

He gripped her hand with his metal fingers. "I love you. I want to give you everything. I know you want children; to try again, but in this body ... I can't give you that."

" _You're_ all I need, Nick. I'm happy regardless. But if you're so adamant, we could always adopt."

Nick flinched, his circuits buzzing. "Adopt? I, uh ... I hadn't considered that. True, there are a lot of children out there without parents, but would you really be all right with that?"

"You know I would be. Being a parent means being selfless. I don't need it to be my flesh and blood to love it."

Nick took a moment to consider her words. She was so forthright. He wasn't expecting it. He had considered transferring to a gen three body for a while; even asked Amari to keep an eye out for a compatible host, but his mental components were so different. There was always going to be a risk. A high risk.

"I'm scared," he confessed, his shoulders trembling. "I _want_ to change. To grow old with you, to experience life the way a man should. But I ... I don't want to die. I don't want to disappear. Not like that. Not strapped to chair, losing my mind while you watch. I know it sounds foolish, but--"

Sole kissed him softly, covering his gray lips with hers. "Shh. Nick, it's okay. It's _okay_. I'm telling you, I'm happy. You don't need to change. You can experience all of those things with me as you are now. You don't need to get wrinkles to grow old with me. You just need to be there and be yourself. That's all I could ever want."

Nick smiled, sprawling out on the couch and laying on her shoulder. "I'm being a damn wimp," he groaned. "Sorry, sweetheart. This conversation got dark real fast." He looked up, reaching for the back of her head. "I love you, so much. Somehow, you always know what to say." He gently lowered her head and kissed her avidly. "How did I get so lucky?"

"You didn't 'get lucky'," she teased. "It's just who you are. I've loved you almost since the day we met."

Nick closed his eyes, her words cooling his overworked system. "Are you really okay with adopting?"

"I really am," she soothed. "Actually, I've been thinking about opening an orphanage here in Diamond City. It's been on my mind for a while now. Ever since we found Billy. Most kids aren't that lucky. They don't have parents at home, waiting for them. And I've heard that a lot of people abandon their babies. We could convince people to bring them here, instead of leaving them to die in the wastes."

"The Valentine Adoption Agency?" He chuckled. "Yeah, it's got a nice ring to it."

"And we can keep one or two for ourselves," she beamed.

"Yeah, sounds nice." He kissed her hand, then held it on his chest. "I like that."

"What would we name them?" she asked, lining his lips.

"Hmmm. I've always been partial to Eliot, for a boy. And for a girl?" He looked up at Sole with giving eyes. "I think I know."

"You do?"

He nodded. "Cordelia. After your sister."

Sole paused, then hugged his shoulders and set her chin on his head. "Thank you, Nick."

"No, sweetheart. Thank _you_." He sat up, lightly brushing his thumb against her cheek. "Do you think-- _really_ think-- a child would want someone like me as a father?"

"You're the best man I know, Nick. Any child would be lucky to have you as a father."

He shook his head, flexing his metal hand. "You know what I mean. With how I ... with how I look."

Sole laughed, curling under his arm. "Have you seen the way the kids look at you? They think you're awesome! You'd be the coolest dad on the block!"

Nick smiled, embracing her warmly. She was right. Children took better to him than adults did. He kissed her neck, holding her close and revelling in her touch. He wasn't sure if it could work, if everything she said was possible, but he was willing to give it a try. With Sole at his side, he felt like he could do anything. He felt human. He felt alive. With that in mind, maybe being a father wasn't out of reach after all.


	6. Surprise Birthday Bash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Companions react to finding out that today is Sole's birthday!

**Cait** : "Hey, that stupid thing on your arm just said today's your birthday. Is that true?"

"I completely forgot about that," Sole shrugged. "It asks you to type in your personal information the first time you connect it, but I've been so busy lately." She laughed meekly. "Well, at least one of us remembered. Aw, well. Let's get back to work."

"That's it? I think not!" Cait bellowed, throwing her arm over Sole. A wide grin stretched across her face. "We're gonna get ya smashed, but the right way. Then, I'm gonna make a proper woman outta ya!"

"What?!" Sole screamed in a frenzied blush. "Y-you don't mean--? I am _not_ having sex with you. Or _anyone_ , for that matter!"

Cait rolled her eyes, almost annoyed at the miscommunication. "I didn't say nothin' about _sex_. We're gonna pick a fight, in a bar. You're only a real woman when you've beaten the piss outta some pigheaded man. So let's go!"

Sole dug her feet into the ground, barely able to stop Cait's advancements. "I-I don't know about this," she stuttered. "Your idea of fun is ... quite different from mine."

"Don't worry. I won't let nothin' happen to ya! Cross me heart."

Sole wasn't quite prepared for her night out with Cait, but somehow she managed to enjoy herself. Or rather, she enjoyed what she could remember. They were able to piece together most of what happened, except for one thing-- when the hell did they get matching tattoos?!

 **Curie** : "Oh, merveilleux! Today is your birthday? I remember my fellow scientists celebrating their birthdays with such fondness! What shall we do on this most momentous occasion?"

Sole waved at the suggestion. "You don't have to do anything, Curie. It's nice of you to offer, but I know you have things to do."

"That can wait! Of course we must celebrate! That is what people do, no?"

Sole nodded impetuously. "Oh, this is another one of those experiments, right? Observational and interactive science? To see what it's like to celebrate someone's birthday, right?"

Curie shook her head, vigorously. "No, no, you misunderstand! I didn't mean it like that! I genuinely want to have fun with you!" She took a moment to compose herself. "If I have learned anything from observing the tradition, it's that a birthday is something you celebrate with friends. To show how important and cherished they are." She joined her fingers, nervously. "We _are_ friends, are we not?"

Sole smiled supportively. "Of course we're friends."

"C'est magnifique! Then, tell me what you'd like to do and I will make it happen."

Sole laughed, bending her shoulder as she considered Curie's offer. "Honestly, I don't really know. I can't think of anything specific I'd like to do."

"Is there something wrong with your arm?" Curie asked, concerned.

Sole quickly ceased her actions. "No, no, nothing's wrong. I mean, I twisted it a bit on our last mission, but it's no big deal."

Curie frowned, then filled with excitement. "I have an idea!"

With Curie's help, Sole managed to have a very relaxing birthday. For once, she was able to sit back and unwind. Knowledgeable in various medical fields, Curie knew all of the pressure points in the human body, and how to manipulate them. Before the end of the day, she gave Sole one of the best massages of her life. She also baked her a delicious croissant and taught her various French expressions.

"Merci mon ami!" Sole laughed, enjoying the thoughtful snack. "Je vous remercie!"

 **Piper** : "Oh, crap! Today's your _birthday_?"

Sole scratched the back of her head, embarrassed. "I totally forgot about it."

"We gotta _do_ something!" Piper yelled, clutching her shoulders. "Come on, Blue. Let's go have some fun!"

"Where? Doing what?"

"Whatever you want!" Piper enforced. "You wanna have drinks? I'm paying. You wanna go dancing? I'm dancing. You wanna shoot the shit? We'll shoot the--"

"Thank you, Piper. That sounds nice, but I know you're busy."

"I'm never too busy for you, Blue. We're friends!" She cupped her chin inquisitively. "I know! How 'bout we go to the Dugout Inn? Vadim will be ecstatic. He _loves_ birthdays, and after everything you've done for him, he'll serve you free drinks all night!"

"I don't think Yefim will be very happy about that," Sole laughed. "Poor man. I really do feel sorry for him sometimes."

Piper snickered, picturing Yefim's disapproving scowl in her mind. "Yeah, I guess you've got a point. Well, then what _do_ you want to do?"

Sole shrugged, cocking half a smile. "Is it bad that I kind of want to take advantage?"

"That's my girl!" Piper wailed, laughing proudly. "Let's get this party started!"

Together, they spent the night drinking and playing darts; shooting the shit. Vadim was happy to take part, making sure Sole's glass was never empty. As expected, Yefim exuded his dissatisfaction all night, but as Piper was quick to point out: a birthday only comes once a year. To everyone's surprise, Yefim offered them a room when the party began to dwindle. Whether it was out of the goodness of his heart, or to stop Vadim from serving more drinks, was anybody's guess.

 **X6-88** : "Is this correct, ma'am? Today is the anniversary of your birth?"

"Yes, but don't worry about it. You don't exactly strike me as the celebratory type, X6."

"On the contrary, ma'am. A birthday is the perfect time for someone to look back on all their accomplishments and failures."

Sole frowned. "Thanks ... I guess."

X6 nodded, then walked over to his closet and removed a newly upgraded courser jacket. Without hesitating, he folded it over his arm and held it out to Sole. She stood in place, staring with a confused expression, to which X6 huffed and forcefully pushed it into her chest.

"Take it," he insisted. "It'll keep you safe."

"But ... I thought you were getting this made for _you_."

He pushed up his glasses and headed for the door. "A birthday is also a time for friends to shower you with gifts and admiration. While I may not always show it, I do consider you to be someone of great importance. To the Institute, and to me."

Sole smiled, hugging the coat. "Thank you, X6. That means a lot to me."

He flinched, then cleared his throat impulsively. "Come along, ma'am. We have duties to attend to."

 **Strong** : "What a birthday?" Strong asked, annoyed by the blaring sound of the Pip-boy's reminder.

"Oh, it's something that humans celebrate once a year."

"Why?" he asked, perplexed.

"Well, because it commemorates the day they were born."

"Sounds dumb," Strong spat. "Who cares when leader was born? Only thing that matters is today. Not day of birth."

Sole giggled nervously. "I guess that's true. But it's more to celebrate the fact that you're alive than to celebrate the past. It's a time for friends and family to show they're happy you're alive."

"Strong already happy you're alive," he huffed. "Don't need reminder or to celebrate."

Sole laughed softly. "Thanks, Strong. I guess it's the thought that counts."

 **Dogmeat** : Dogmeat didn't know why the Pip-boy was wailing, but it excited him. He saw Sole smile as she cancelled the sound, then quickly lower her head, a deep sadness sweeping over her. He didn't know why she was suddenly so down, but he was determined to fix it. He grabbed her original Silver Shroud hat and ran around, wagging his tail. She chased him, trying to get it back, but he refused to stop until she filled the air with her lyrical laughter.

When she finally got a grasp on the hat, he let go, causing her to fall back. The moment she was grounded he leaped onto her chest, whining and licking her face. Sole smiled and scratched behind his ears as he soaked her face in wet kisses.

"Thanks, buddy," she whispered. She hadn't laughed that hard in a long time.

 **Codsworth** : Codsworth didn't need the Pip-boy to remind him. He remembered on his own, and he surprised Sole with a perfectly baked birthday cake.

"Wow! Thank you, Codsworth! How did you do all of this?"

"It wasn't easy," he admitted, his voice strained. "I had to go through several traders and pay them handsomely to find and bring me the proper ingredients. It was _chaos_ for the longest time. Then, when they finally gathered what I needed, I had to cook it with my thruster because there aren't any working ovens here. Took me _six hours_. Do you know how hard it is to decorate a cake without disposable thumbs? And don't even get me started on mixing the dye, what with these thick, tentacle-like arms of mine. And you know what else? MacCready and Cait tried to _eat it_! They completely messed up the first layer of icing, but I caught them just in time. Of course, I had to do all of this behind your back, which was even more nerve-wracking because you could have easily discovered the surprise at any given moment, and--"

Sole giggled, cutting him off prematurely. "Thank you, Codsworth. I'm sorry for all the trouble."

Codsworth sighed, regretting the rant. "I'm sorry, mum. I'm just so happy you're here. I missed you, and to be able to celebrate your birthday again is ... well, it's a feeling I can't quite describe." He paused, hearing his circuits whirr. "Oh, my. I wanted this to be perfect, and now I'm rambling."

"Not at all," Sole beamed, taking a moment to appreciate all his hard work and hardships. "I'm glad you're here too, Codsworth. I couldn't imagine this day without you."

"Mum?" he said with a festive tone as he handed her a knife. "Would you care to do the honours?"

"Of course." She sliced into the cake, stunned by the perfect, spongy consistency. "Oh, my god," she chuckled. "I'm gonna get so fat."

Codsworth scoffed. "Not so long as I'm around to make you healthy meals," he pressed. "And I plan on sticking around for a long, long time."

"Good," she said, giving him a friendly tap. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

 **Preston** : "Is it really your birthday, General? We should celebrate."

"Thanks, Preston, but it's not a big deal."

"I beg to differ," he challenged, with no real force behind his words. "If anyone deserves a good time, it's you. People like you-- _good_ people-- are hard to come by nowadays. It only seems fair."

Sole scratched her nose, humbled by his praises. "Thanks, Preston. But I'm really not that special."

"You really don't think so?" he asked, his tone dejected.

"A-anyway, I can't think of anything I'd like to do, so...."

"Hmm. I think I might have an idea. Come with me."

The walk wasn't long, and in no time at all they reached the Abernathy Farm. Sole hadn't visited them in almost a month, but she spent a week with them prior, making sure they were well supplied and well defended. She helped them plant a new garden, bought them a guard dog, and even built them a robot for security and manual labour. She was happy to see them flourishing, independent and happy.

"Hello!" Blake yelled, welcoming them with open arms. "Connie, Lucy, come quick!"

Everyone ran out to meet them, greeting them with a hug.

"What brings you to the farm?" Connie asked, excited that Sole had returned.

"Today's her birthday," Preston answered, shamelessly.

"P-Preston!" Sole yelled, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I didn't know he was going to--"

"Birthday?!" Lucy shouted, grabbing Sole's hands. "That's great! You have to stay for dinner! Everything's made from the garden you helped us plant."

"Oh, I don't want to impose."

"I insist," Blake chimed. "Please. It's the least we can do. And there's plenty to share, thanks to you."

Sole blushed as they led her into the house. She wasn't sure why Preston told them it was her birthday, but her discomfort faded as the family told jokes and stories. They even included Dozer, the robot who they now saw as a member of the family. The atmosphere was homey, delightful, something Sole had come to miss. Dinner was fabulous, nearly bringing tears to her eyes, but they refused to stop there. Blake brought out an old deck of cards, and together they played various old world games that Sole had nearly forgotten.

"Well," Preston said, noting the time. "I guess we'd better get going. It'll be dark soon, and we have to get back to Sanctuary."

"That's too bad," Connie sighed. "You're certainly welcome to stay."

"Thank you, but I'm afraid we have somewhere we have to be tomorrow."

"Well then, thank you for visiting. It was nice seeing you again."

"You too," Sole beamed, hugging everyone goodbye.

"Don't be a stranger. Come back whenever you like!"

Sole thanked them again and followed Preston into the field. He almost looked proud, but she wasn't sure if it was self-pride or if she had done something to impress him.

"Thank you, Preston. I'm not sure why you brought me here, but I'm glad you did. I had a lot of fun."

"This is a special day," he remarked, meeting her gaze with a smile. "So I wanted to show you how special you are. These people aren't only alive because of you, they're thriving. You risked everything to help them, then went out of your way to give them more. You didn't do it for money or because the Minutemen needed a spacious farm. You did it because it was the right thing. That's admirable, and a sentiment not many people share today."

Sole felt her face light up like a candle. "Th-thank you," she stammered, gripping her shirt. "R-really, thank you so much."

"You're welcome," he soothed, looking out to the horizon. "Can't wait to see what you're gonna do next. In another year, I bet we'll have even more people to celebrate with."

 **Danse** : Danse went pale as Sole switched off the reminder. Looking over, she could see his discomfort. He had never looked so lost. She could tell he felt compelled to do something; say something, but it was clear he had no idea how to proceed. She smiled, turning towards him with reassuring intentions, but before she could speak he cut her off.

"Happy birthday, soldier."

"Oh, thank you," Sole inflected, taken aback but his compassion.

His brows bent, still clearly dazed. "I have to admit, I don't really know what to do in this situation."

"Members of the Brotherhood don't celebrate their birthdays?"

"They do," he answered quickly. "Just, not with me. I'm a commanding officer. It would be ... inappropriate."

"No it wouldn't," Sole laughed. "Kells celebrates with his subordinates all the time."

"That's different. Captain Kells has more--"

"Personality?" she mocked with a crooked smile.

Danse blushed, but covertly as he turned away. "I was going to say more experience. He knows his men well enough to have a few drinks with them, and he's entitled to some down time."

"Well, _we're_ friends. Aren't we?"

Danse flinched. "I ... I can't be your commanding officer _and _your friend."__

"Sure you can," she chuckled, grabbing his arm. "Come on, let's go have a drink. If anyone here needs to unwind, it's you."

Danse remained silent as she dragged him to the ship's rec centre. He wasn't one for alcohol, but to Sole's surprise he was perfectly contented eating several Fancy Lad's Snack Cakes. She was actually impressed. They were so rich she could only eat two, but Danse downed at least seven or eight. The sugar rush opened his mind, and they had a lovely time bonding over their love of gun mods and power armour.

"Thanks for this," Danse whispered as he began to crash. "I know it's _your_ birthday, but I really enjoyed myself."

"So did I," she soothed, taking another sip of her drink.

She watched as Danse lowered his head onto the table, inevitably passing out from his childish high. At that moment, Haylen and Ingram walked over, curious about the odd setting. When Sole explained, the women burst out laughing.

"Come on," Haylen said, offering Sole her hand. "Lets keep this partying going."

"What about Danse?" Sole asked, still snickering.

"Leave him," Ingram quipped. "It'll be funny to see what he does in the morning, when he realizes he fell asleep at the bar, surrounded by cake boxes."

"That's cruel," Haylen lectured. "He'll be ... humiliated."

"I know, right? Kind of a birthday gift in itself."

Sole shook her head. "Come on. Help me get him to bed."

"Oh, fine!" Ingram sighed. "But after that, we're tearin' this ship a new hull!"

"Sounds like a plan," Sole laughed. "Sounds like a plan."

 **Deacon** : Deacon grinned the moment he heard the alert, which made Sole a little nervous. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her violently, like a chid shaking a gift before Christmas.

"Why didn't ya tell me it was your birthday?!" he shouted, teeming with excitement.

"I-I forgot. Please stop."

Deacon backed away, rubbing his chin. "Well, obviously we gotta _do_ somethin'. I'm sure Glory'd be down for celebratin'. Des, too. Oh, and Tinker Tom, for sure. And--"

"I appreciate it, Deacon. I really do. But everyone's busy. Let's not make a big deal out of this, okay?"

"Hey. It's no secret that I'm a bit of a loner, but I'll be damned if I don't take the time to celebrate my friend's birthday."

Sole smiled, nudging his arm. "Thanks, Deacon. But honestly, I really don't know what to do. Desdemona and the others really _are_ busy, and I don't want them to drop everything for me."

"Then how about we celebrate? Just you and me."

"O-okay. What do you have in mind?"

Deacon paused, taking a moment to consider, then grinned and pulled her into the HQ. Between all of his outfits, he managed to perform a one-man comedy show, specially for her. Sole was dumbfounded, finding herself ruined by every bad joke and pun he threw her way. She couldn't help it. He had so much personality.

"Why can't Powder Gangers and Boomers ever be together? Because their relationship is _explosive_!" Sole laughed loudly. "Hey, did I tell you I went to Diamond City the other day? I saw a really hot girl, but when I brought up my V.A.T.S. it said I had a 0% chance of hittin' that."

Sole covered her mouth, tears forming in her eyes. "I never knew you were so funny," she wheezed. "I mean, I did. Just ... not in this way."

Deacon shrugged and took a seat on his makeshift stage. "In another life, I might've been a comedian."

Sole grinned, crossing her arms. "Liar."

"Okay, but I may have _played the role_ of one."

"Now _that's_ believable."

Deacon chuckled, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "Happy birthday, partner. Glad I could put a smile on your face."

"Thanks, Deacon. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime," he winked. "Anytime."

 **MacCready** : MacCready didn't say a word. The moment Sole silenced the reminder, he grabbed her hand and led her into the forest just outside of Sanctuary. When she asked where he was taking her, he asked only that she trust him. When they reached a decent clearing, MacCready handed her one of his rifles and pointed to a collection of glass bottles and targets.

"What is this?" she asked, gripping the chamber.

"I come here to keep my skills sharp and do some thinking. It's my own special space, I guess you could say. But I don't mind sharing it with you, especially since you could use the practice."

Sole smiled, raising an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Definitely. I've seen you shoot."

"You sure about that? Because I think I might be better than you."

"Whoa!" MacCready breezed, throwing his hands in the air. "Let's put those delusions on hold for a minute."

Sole laughed. "Well, I'm _at least_ on the same level as you."

"Really? Care to prove that?" he challenged, his eyes narrow.

Sole grinned, cocking the barrel. "With pleasure."

The forest filled with gunfire as they engaged in the friendly competition. They even expanded their game, shooting moving targets; old leaves blowing in the wind, branches, and the occasional roach and bloatfly. There was something restful about the whole experience. Something soothing. They counted their hits, informing the other of their progress until they both ran out of ammo.

"Forty-one!" MacCready announced, confidently.

"Thirty-seven," Sole sighed. "Looks like you're my better."

"Aw, don't feel bad. You were really close. I'd say we're on the same level after all. Just like you said."

"Thanks, MacCready. For everything."

"No problem," he said, taking back his gun. "Let's head back. It's getting dark."

"Yeah. We'll have a few drinks to celebrate your victory."

"You mean your _birthday_ ," he corrected, slapping her back.

Sole nodded and took the lead. Before he followed, MacCready popped the clip, seeing five bullets spill out onto the ground. His face paled as he sauntered towards her.

"Hey, you didn't let me win, did you?" Sole quickened her pace, laughing as she ran past the trees. "Hey! You didn't let me win, right?!"

 **Nick** : "It's your birthday? Why didn't you say something?"

"To be honest," she whispered, tapping the screen. "I completely forget."

Nick frowned, then stood from his desk. He knew, under the circumstances, that Sole was undoubtedly sad. She'd lost her son, her husband, her home, her entire life. He knew those thoughts were likely pervading her mind. How could she enjoy her birthday without her friends and family? He knew that pain all too well, being stuck with the old Nick's memories.

"Hey, don't look so down," Sole mewed, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "It's no big deal. I'm fine. Really."

Nick had gotten to know her quite well since becoming her partner. Working cases with her, helping others, conversing on a more personal level; he picked up a few things. He knew what she missed, what she loved most about the old world. Determined to make the night festive, he removed his trench coat and grabbed his old radio, tuning it to some light jazz. He placed it on his desk with a smile and took Sole by the hand.

"W-what are you doing?" she blushed as he closed the gap between them.

"Dance with me," he said, though as more of a question than a demand.

When she didn't fight him, he grabbed her waist and spun her sideways. She was embarrassed at first; feeling his cold metal hand trace her back, but as the music blared and he lead the steps, she fell into the rhythm nostalgically. She didn't notice, but Nick was nervous, too. He was willing to risk a little humiliation, though, if it meant giving her one piece of her old life back. She smiled as he twirled her in time with the beat, giggling until he too was enjoying himself.

They danced well into the night, until Sole was completely spent.

"I didn't know you could do that," she wheezed, collapsing onto the couch.

"I've actually never tried," he confessed. "The real Nick danced all the time, but I wasn't sure _I_ could pull it off."

"You _definitely_ pulled it off."

Nick smiled, taking a seat beside her. "Happy birthday," he wisped. "I know you ... miss dancing."

"Thank you," she beamed, patting his hand. "That was a lot of fun."

"It was," he concurred. "I guess I kind of missed it, too. In a manner of speaking."

Sole giggled and stood. "Round two?" she asked, posing perfectly.

Nick chuckled and took her hand. "As many as you want. Remember, I don't get tired."

 **Hancock** : Hancock was speechless. The first thing that came to mind was chems, but he knew Sole wouldn't take them. He paced back and forth like a lost child, desperate for an idea. He knew she'd been through a lot, and he wanted to create something fun and distracting. Something that would take her mind off of all the shit and anguish she'd suffered since leaving the vault.

"Hancock," Sole chipped, nearly laughing at his troubled expression. "Calm down. We don't have to do anything."

"You're damn right we do," he rasped. "I never miss the opportunity to party."

"Don't worry about it," Sole waved. "Really. It's not important."

"Of course it is!" he yelled, almost affronted. "It's _you_! It's-- damn, I'm not good with this stuff at all." He cringed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Listen, I wanna do somethin' for ya. Just ... let me, alright?"

Sole nodded gratefully. "If it means that much to you. Thank you."

"It does," he stammered, a reddish line spreading over his cheeks. "Just give me a minute to think of somethin'." He continued to pace, deep in thought. Just as Sole was about to speak, he snapped his fingers sharply. "I got it! Come with me!"

Excitedly, he grabbed Sole's hand and rushed her out of the estate, taking her to the Third Rail. With a chivalrous grin, he seated her at the bar and addressed old Whitechapel Charlie.

"Tonight, my friend here drinks free," he said, slapping her back.

"Sure thing, boss man." Charlie swiped her a glass of gin, without delay.

"Oh, uh ... thank you," she stuttered, holding the cup still. She wasn't a big drinker, but she didn't want to insult Hancock after such a kind gesture.

"Don't look so concerned," he said, nudging her shoulder. "That's not the real reason we're here."

Sole tilted her head, confused. "Then, why--?"

Hancock grinned and headed for the stage. He waved at Magnolia, then gestured for her to step down. She did as asked without question, and although the room immediately missed her singing, no one complained. He whispered something in her ear, and with a smile she handed him the mic. Sole watched in awe as Hancock strolled onto the stage and signalled Charlie to start the music. She cringed, worried that it would be terrible, but the moment his lips parted, a profound hush fell over the crowd.

He was amazing.

Sole sat in utter disbelief as Magnolia joined her at the bar.

"Good, isn't he?"

"My god. I ... I had no idea."

"You must've done something to impress him," she hummed. "He doesn't sing for just anybody. And to get him up on stage like that? Sure, the man has no shame, but performing isn't exactly his style. He must really care about you."

Sole blushed, tapping her foot as Hancock dedicated song after song to her and her alone. A smile filled her face as she slipped into an almost euphoric state. The raspy tint of his voice seemed to completely disappear with each note. It was gentle and endearing; like an angel, but strong and exciting. When he completed the track, the crowd cheered, blown away by their mayor's talent. He removed his tricorn and gave a prideful bow, then joined Sole once more.

"Judging by the look on your face, I'd say you approve."

"I ... I can't believe how _good_ you are," she stressed, still in shock. "Hancock, you're incredible!"

"And that's not the end of it," he winked.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I still have one more song." He sat forward, smiling seductively. "Happy birthday, to you~"

"Stop it," Sole laughed, pulling away.

"Happy birthday, to you~" He inched closer, taking a hint from her body language and grabbing a bottle of vodka.

Finishing the song, he left Sole completely breathless. Maybe she wasn't ready to be with him; not in the way he wanted, but he'd completed his goal. He made her forget all of her worries, and the rest of the night was eventful and fun. For now, that was enough.


	7. Ransom Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Companions react to finding a ransom note with one of Sole's bloodied personal affects.

**Cait** : Cait felt bile rise in the back of her throat as she read the letter. She couldn't tell if the blood on the holotape was Sole's, but it didn't matter. The threat was real enough. At first, she couldn't fathom Sole losing to a bunch of raiders, but with enough people working against you, defeat is often inevitable. A frightening thought, but one Cait knew all too well from her time as a slave.

The note wasn't specific; it didn't mention Sole's name or appearance, which gave her some semblance of hope. It just said: "If you want to see your friend alive again, bring 5000 caps to Gorski Cabin." Maybe it wasn't Sole. Maybe it was some other unfortunate, who honestly Cait couldn't bring herself to care about. Not if it meant her only friend was safe. Her hand shaking, she reached for the holotape and turned it sideways, seeing "Hi Honey" printed on the label.

"Damn it!" she screeched, launching her fist into the wall. "God, _damn_ it! Do I look like I've got _five thousand_ caps?! Ya spineless, manky git mother _fuck_ ers!?"

She grit her teeth, scraping her nails across the wood. Her temper flared as she tore up the room, throwing everything in her vicinity. Sole must have been terrified-- attacked, beaten, dragged away. The thought ate away at her. She should've been there, she should've had Sole's back, but she wasn't and she couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible.

When there was nothing left to break and she hit her limit, she took a moment to compose herself. Her breathing narrowed as she un-crumpled the paper in her fist. She knew raiders; how they thought, how they planned, all of their dirty tricks. She could tell by the nearly illegible writing that it wasn't one of the more organized groups. They probably didn't have a leader, and she knew from the signs of struggle that it was probably poorly planned.

Growling, she ran to her bedroom and pulled a large bag out from under her bed. She was right, they _were_ in a hurry. They must have been to miss such a lucrative cache. She took a seat, then opened the bag and poured its contents out onto the bed. She tucked every knife into her boots and jacket and attached several grenades to her belt, feeling a thirst for blood. She smiled; all she needed now was her guns. She cocked a rifle and filled it with ammo, then promptly went to work on the rest.

By the time she left the house, no space on her was free of a deadly weapon. Whoever these guys were, she could take them, especially now that she was swarming with rage and anticipation. No matter what, Sole was coming home safe and sound, and Cait was going to paint the world with raider blood.

 **Curie** : "Oh, mon Dieu! Ce n'est pas vrai!" Curie cried, tearing into the note with her nails. "Non, non! This cannot _be_!"

She crumpled the page, nearly moved to tears as her body shook with fear. She had become so reliant on Sole, so dependant; but it was more than that. She couldn't imagine a world without her new and dearest friend. Taking a breath, she picked up the holotape, her pupils constricting when she saw the blood. For the first time since her transfer, she regretted that she no longer had a mechanical body. At least with that she'd make a formidable foe, but she was only just getting used to her gen three abilities. She could barely fire a gun.

"What ... what should I do?" she sobbed.

She considered seeking help from Sole's other companions, but they were all so far away. She worried about the time span, and whether or not the raiders might hurt Sole, thinking no one was coming. With a moan, she dropped to her knees, searching her mind for an answer. Tiny whimpers filled the air as her chest heaved and her heart thumped loudly in her ears. What was this feeling? She had never experienced anything like it.

Then it hit her: it was panic.

"So that's what it feels like," she whispered, clutching her shirt. "The fear of losing a loved one. Just like before. When I was in the vault, watching all my friends die." A tear rolled down her cheek and under her quivering lips, but the moment quickly past. "Non! I won't let that happen!" She wiped her face on her sleeve and pushed herself to her feet. "There is _always_ a solution," she grit.

A smile stretched across her face as she remembered what Sole had done for the residents of Vault 81. While Sole's other friends were a fair distance, the vault was close, and they had weapons. If not everyone was willing to help, there were bound to be a handful of people who were.

Curie nodded ambitiously and headed out, running faster than she knew her body could handle. When she reached the vault she collapsed, completely spent, but the residents greeted her with care. As she recovered, she explained the situation and begged for help, and to her great surprise many were eager to support her. Dr. Forsythe, Dr. Penske, Bobby, the Combes', Tina, and even Overseer McNamara agreed without a moment's hesitation. McNamara gathered her best security and foragers, while Penske and Alexis supplied them with heavy energy weapons.

As she waited for them to prepare, Curie spoke with Forsythe, who agreed to give her a full medical kit. "Though I don't know why you need it," he remarked. "It's just a couple of raiders. We've dealt with them before, when they tried to break into the vault, and our men have handled them on their travels plenty of times. I don't see anyone getting injured."

"I'm sure you are right," Curie beamed. "But my friend may be hurt, and this is the best I can do."

"Don't sell yourself short," he praised. "You ran all the way here and got help. Not a lot of people out there would be willing to do that."

"A pity," she sung. "They must not have friends like Sole."

Forsythe paused, then smiled as she tucked the kit into her backpack. She thanked him one last time, then waved goodbye as she made her way to the top floor. She may not have been as strong as Nick Valentine or as street-wise and Hancock, or even as capable of _any_ of Sole's other companions, but she'd do anything to save her friend. One way or another, their adventures would continue.

 **Piper** : "Piper!" Nat screamed, bursting through the door. "I was exploring outside the city, and I found _this_ near the entrance!"

"Nat?" Piper looked up from her typewriter, then crossed her arms with a scowl. "What were you doing outside the wall? You know you're not allowed to--"

"Never mind that! _Look_!"

She pushed the note and holotape into her sister's hand, her face pale. At that moment, Piper knew something was terribly wrong. She looked at the holotape, her expression matching Nat's when she realized it belonged to Sole. With a gasp, she read the message, too worried to notice the atrocious writing and spelling errors. Her knees shook, plagued with fear and anger as she carefully considered her next step.

"What are we gonna do?" Nat cried, gripping her hands.

" _We_?" Piper inflected. She would have laughed had the situation not been so dire. " _We're_ not gonna do anything. _I_ am."

"Okay, well, what are _you_ gonna do?"

Piper nibbled her finger, as she always did when she was thinking. She looked at Nat, who seemed every bit a troubled by the situation as she was. Sole was more than just a friend, but family; someone both girls had come to respect and love.

"We don't have that kind of money!" Nat sobbed, gritting her teeth.

"We don't, but _McDonough_ does." Nat blinked as Piper pulled the paper out of her typewriter. "Yeah. Five thousand caps is like pocket change to him." She shook the article deviously. "I still haven't gone public with the whole water scam. I'm _sure_ he'd pay five thousands caps for me to keep my mouth shut."

"So, you're gonna blackmail him?" Nat let out a light chuckle. "Nice. But then what? You pay these guys and you're as good as dead. _You_ taught me that."

"The money's just for show," she grinned. "To get close. Don't forget, your sister's pretty good with a gun. As soon as they go for the exchange, I'll blow 'em all away."

"Will that work?" Nat asked, concerned for Piper's safety.

"I've done this a few times," she soothed. "Remember? And I can tell from the writing that they aren't the sharpest group. Don't worry." She placed a gentle hand on Nat's shoulder. "I got this. I'll have Sole back before you know it."

She folded the papers and slid them into her pocket, then reached for her pistol and rifle and strapped them into place. Nat's eyes shined as she watched her sister work, burning with a determination she'd never seen. When all was well, she headed for the door, but Nat grabbed her sleeve suddenly.

"Piper?" she said, her voice low and grisly. "Make them pay for what they've done."

Piper grinned confidently. "Don't worry, Nat. You can count on it."

 **X6-88** : For X6, it wasn't a question of whether or not he'd be able to get Sole back. He knew he would; and safely, at that. It was a question of whether or not he'd simply pay the ransom, or just sneak in and slit their throats. He took a moment to consider. He knew if he reported the incident to Father, he'd easily supply the barbaric currency the raiders demanded, but that seemed almost condoning. With a frown, he picked up the holotape and turned it between his fingers. Upon closer inspection, he was able to determine that the blood was undoubtedly Sole's. He cocked a brow, pushing up his sunglasses and slipping the tape into his jacket. With a chilling smile, he activated his cloaking field and headed for the cabin.

 **Strong** : Strong could barely read, but Rex Goodman taught him how to sound out the words. While some of the message was lost on him, he managed to get the gist of it. The words "Gorski Cabin" were meaningless, but he could smell Sole's blood and he knew how to track it. He ran out of the house, hearing a muffled scream in the distance. The trail was fresh, and he knew from that that the attack was recent.

Sprinting with the speed of a bullet, he quickly caught up with the raiders, who had Sole tied and mounted on a Brahmin. With a vicious laugh, Strong pummelled all three of them before they could fire a shot, taking them down with one foul swing. The men screamed in protest as he smashed their skulls into the ground, leaving only Sole and the Brahmin alive.

"Why leader so weak?" he barked, breaking the binds.

"Sorry, Strong. They took me by surprise."

"Strong took _them_ by surprise," he huffed, not understanding. "Next time, Strong not save. Leader should be able to save themselves." Sole pouted as Strong turned his attention to the Brahmin. Pointing, he looked to Sole for consent. "We eat, right? Strong hungry."

_Dogmeat: Dogmeat ran to Sole's residence, smelling the blood in the air. Whimpering softly, he dashed inside, his nose fallowing the unseen trail to it's origins. As he slid into the bedroom, his paw brushed the holotape, his nails slightly scratching the plastic. A shrill whine escaped his throat and his ears bent back. The blood was undoubtedly Sole's. His fur stood on end as he moved sporadically around the room, panicking, but it didn't take him long to notice something else. There was something on the table. It smelled vile; like sweat and guts and gunpowder. He knocked the leg, then watched as a thin slip of paper drifted onto the floor. He took a long, deep whiff, then snarled, bearing his claws and fangs. The scent confirmed it. He knew who took Sole, and he knew exactly where they were going. With a howl, he left the house, running off into the sunset._

**Codsworth** : Codsworth almost didn't notice the note and holotape lying on the floor. He accidentally swept them up with the trash, readying the house for Sole's return. When he picked up the dustpan to dispose of its contents, that's when he noticed. His optic sensors tightened as he examined the holotape, then swung open at the words "Hi Honey". He dropped the pan in a clumsy panic, ruing any progress he had made, but for once the mess didn't bother him. He quickly switched to his tweezers, digging through the dust and granite, then grabbed the tape and shook it clean.

"What ... what is this?"

He couldn't see the blood, as it was covered in garbage, but he knew Sole would never leave something so valued lying around. He began hovering about the room, calling Sole's name, desperate for an answer. When his efforts proved in vain, he returned to the pile of trash and rummaged through it for another clue. When he found the note, his circuits buzzed. His wires tightened so hard he thought he'd shut down. He could barely process the information. No, his master couldn't _possibly_ have been taken by raiders.

"This cannot be. Those ... bar _barians_!"

The time for denial and trepidation was over. He felt a rage burning inside him, igniting his fuel. His thruster sparked as he headed for the door. He knew raiders salvaged old Handy units for scrap, so getting close to them wouldn't be an issue. Surely they'd think him harmless. He laughed genially at the thought as he headed for the cabin.

They had no idea Sole installed major military upgrades.

 **Preston** : Preston couldn't believe it. It made sense; Sole being the General of the Minutemen, that someone would demand a sizable ransom. Likely, they assumed the Minutemen received lucrative compensation for their actions. Since Sole joined, they had become well known throughout the Commonwealth, but this time as a force to be reckoned with. Of course people assumed they had money on that basis.

"Damn it!" Preston cried, slamming his fist on the table. "Do these guys actually think we get paid?! I don't _have_ five thousand caps!"

"Don't need 'em," Ronnie chimed, overhearing his distress. "Whatchya need? Let me know and I'll find a way to get it for ya."

Preston cringed, handing her the note with a ghostly expression. From that, Ronnie quickly realized it wasn't what she thought it was. Never before had Preston looked so terrified, and it made her nervous. She read the message carefully, digesting every line, then smiled and swung her arm over the fretful man's shoulder.

"I see," she grinned, slapping his arm. "Pres, are you forgettin' that ya have the entire militia at your disposal? Just say the word and we're gone."

Preston smiled. How could he forget? Thanks to Sole, he was no longer alone. His fights and worries belonged to everyone now; all his friends and colleagues. He gripped the bloodied holotape, a rage building inside him. He was usually so calm and collected, but he couldn't hide his fury as his eyebrows crossed and he curled his lips under his teeth.

"Gather everyone up," he ordered. "Let's go get our General back."

 **Danse** : Danse frowned. "This isn't very funny, soldier." He looked about the room, certain it was some sick, initiate prank. "I'm ordering you to show yourself this instant, soldier!" No response.

Irritated, Danse steam-walked across the station to Haylen and Rhys. They had both been involved in a variety of shenanigans when it came to new recruits, but nothing as callous as this. Seeing the anger on his face, the two of them stood at attention, knowing they were about to be lectured. Though they had no idea why.

"Where's Sole?" he bellowed, pinching the note and holotape between his armoured fingers. "This isn't funny." Haylen and Rhys exchanged looks, then stared at their paladin aimlessly. "Playing innocent, huh? This is too far. Even for you, Rhys. And Haylen, if you're involved in this, I have to say I'm _very_ disappointed. I never expected this from you."

Haylen scowled at Rhys, blaming him for the castigation, but he shrugged, just as lost as she was. When he was responsible for a prank, he generally accepted the punishment with a smile. He never lied about it, and he didn't much care for Sole. She couldn't see him working on an elaborate prank with someone he hated.

"Sir ... I don't think Knight Rhys knows what you're talking about. And I _definitely_ don't know what you're talking about."

Danse sighed. "I believe you, Haylen. But I wouldn't put this past _you_ , Knight."

Rhys flinched, then clicked his heels. "Sir! I have no idea to what you are referring, sir!"

"Don't play innocent with me. I know this is some kind of ill-conceived jo--" Danse paused when he saw the blood on his thumb. Feeling a sharp chill run up his spine, he turned the holotape, smearing a line of crimson across the title. "Knight..." he whispered, swallowing a hint of panic. "Do you know where Sole is?"

"No, sir. I truly do not," he swore, giving Danse his best, most honest stance.

"And you, Scribe? You don't either?"

Haylen shook her head. "No, sir. Is something wrong?"

Danse paled, then dropped the tape and note to the floor. An air of responsibility consumed him as he realized how much time he had wasted. Before another word was spoken, he clenched his teeth and bolted out of the police station, grabbing every energy weapon he could carry. Rhys and Haylen glared at each other in the silence, then picked up the paper. When the truth came to light, Rhys jeered and returned to his work.

"What are you _do_ ing?!" Haylen screamed, equally distressed as Danse. "Shouldn't we help?"

"Only if you wanna be there to clean up the bodies," Rhys warned. "Believe me, Danse is about to go on a rampage."

 **Deacon** : Deacon panicked for about a second, until he realized he knew exactly where Gorski Cabin was and how to reach it covertly. He cocked half a smile as he dashed to his closet and grabbed his best, most armoured raider outfit. It had been a while since he posed as a sadistic, no-nonsense marauder, but his character was easy enough to remember. Shale Ottoman, "The Untouchable".

With a sigh, he slipped the holotape into his pocket. He knew Sole was okay, that the blood was likely from a minor injury. He had run with raiders before, for some of his deeper espionage assignments. He knew they didn't hurt their hostages too badly, even if they fought back. Not until they got what they wanted, at least. After that, a double cross was almost certain, but he wasn't about to let that happen. He cocked his rifle with a grin and hurried out of HQ. He was usually a pretty chill guy, but if the raiders thought they were going to get away with this, they had another thing coming to them.

 **MacCready** : "Shit. Shit, shit, shit! No! No, no, no, no, no!"

MacCready held is tongue for so long. He'd been so careful about swearing, but the situation called for it. This was the moment. The one, rare moment he didn't feel a hint of shame or guilt. He let loose, screaming whatever he wanted, lost in a blind panic as he clutched the note.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!

He tried to calm himself, going over the demands once more. He struggled with reading-- he had never truly been taught how to-- but he got the gist of it. Sole had been kidnapped; taken while MacCready was out practising his aim. Of course he didn't hear the commotion over all of the shooting, but he blamed himself nonetheless. He grabbed his sniper immediately, his eyes locked on the words "Gorski Cabin". He knew where that was, knew it was close, and he knew the best places to hide and set up the perfect shots.

"All right," he grumbled, setting Sole's holotape aside to keep it safe. "Time to teach those fuckers a lesson."

 **Hancock** : For a moment, Fahrenheit was certain Hancock had turned feral. He growled violently, slobber stringing from his teeth. He tossed everything in his office, breaking glass and scratching his nails against the walls, chipping the wood. She had only seen him throw a fit like this once, and that was when McDonough attempted to extend his reach to Goodneighbor.

"Where'd ya find it?" he asked, panting loudly as he tried to catch his breath.

"Just outside the gates."

He clutched the holotape, but quickly placed it on his desk, afraid to crack the plastic in his heated grip. He leaned forward, snarling like a caged animal as he stared at the blood staining the corner. Nearly shaking, he touched a finger to the wet crimson and ran it along the edge.

"Maybe it isn't Sole's," Fahrenheit remarked, trying to lighten the blow.

"It's Sole's," he spat. "I can smell it." He hung his head shamefully, digging his nails into his skin. "Damn it. Where was I? What was I _do_ ing?"

Fahrenheit shrugged. She knew. Everyone knew. He was getting high, of course. Realizing, he pulled the empty jet inhaler out of his pocket and threw it across the room. Fahrenheit watched silently as he contemplated his next move, almost stoically. He stared at nothing, his black eyes empty and lifeless.

"Gorski Cabin?" he rasped, his demeanour turning cool.

"That's what it says, boss. Of course, that's a fair trek and that blood looks pretty fresh. If we leave now, we can probably catch them while they're still on the road."

Hancock stood, ruffling his collar and shooting his bodyguard an almost euphoric glare. "Get everyone," he grinned. Fahrenheit smiled at the demand. "I mean it. I want everyone outta this estate and trackin' 'em down. We're gonna show these shitstains _exactly_ why ya don't fuck with Goodneighbor."

 **Nick** : Nick remained calm as he read the letter, knowing that panicking would only make the situation worse. His eyes scanned the words quickly, able to read faster than any man. When he was finished, he placed the paper on his desk. In the course of a minute he went from terrified, to guilty, to determined to finding the rat-bastards who took Sole. The blood was a concern, but he'd worked enough cases to know that kidnappers often kept their victims alive when demanding a ransom. Still, there was that one chance that these particular raiders were especially dense. And brutal. His coolant ran cold at the thought.

"Something wrong, Nick?" Ellie asked, returning to the office from the market. She noticed Nick staring intently at the page. "Oh, that? Some client brought it in an hour ago. Said it was for your eyes early."

Nick shot up, slamming his hands on the desk. An _hour_ ago? Ellie watched fearfully as he clutched his fists, his metal joints whirring. He had never felt the need to reprimand her, but he couldn't stop his rage from building. He opened his mouth, ready to vent his internal temper, but stopped when he met his secretary's eyes. She looked terrified; backed up against the door like a dog evading its master.

Nick's expression quickly softened, realizing that it was no one's fault but his. He told Ellie not to bother him, under any circumstances, while he was going over Sole's case. She had no reason to believe the letter was urgent or even suspicious.

"I'm sorry, Ellie. Just ignore me," he said, crumpling the note and reaching for his hat and trench coat.

"What's wrong?" she asked again, inching closer. "Did something happen?"

Nick paused. He didn't want to tell her, but after his little semi-outburst, he knew lying would only make things worse. "Sole's been kidnapped."

"Oh, my God!" Ellie covered her mouth with a gasp. "I-I'm so sorry! I ... I should've given you the note when I first--"

"Don't worry about it," he groaned, adjusting his collar. "You didn't do anything wrong. This is my fault, not yours."

"That's not true," she scorned, angered by the accusation. "It's the kidnappers'. No one else's. Not mine, not Sole's, and _definitely_ not yours."

Nick exhaled peacefully and headed for the door. "You're right. Thanks, Ellie. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Wait. Where are you going?" she asked, still distressed.

Nick smirked. "Where do you think?" he asked, clicking his gun. "I'm gonna get my partner back."


	8. Hancock's Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sole reacts to finding a picture of Hancock before he changed.

Sole took a step inside the old, dusty house, her feet creaking against the floorboards. It had definitely seen better days, though she couldn't picture it. It was so rundown even raiders didn't see fit to use it for shelter. But it wasn't all bad. The roof was still intact, at least enough to get them through the night. She wasn't sure why Hancock was so against resting there, but his objections only made her curiosity swell. The moment he fell asleep, exhausted from days of travel, she couldn't help but trek to the house and explore.

She pushed on, leaving small footprints in the dust and grime. A radroach leaped out without warning, but she was prepared. One look at the wood told her that time wasn't the only thing chewing away at it. She grabbed her knife, stabbing humanely between the neck and back. The bug died instantly, and served as a warning to any more nearby.

That done, she made her way to the kitchen. It was easily in the worst shape. The hinges on the cupboards had become so rusted that some of the doors hung open. Others completely detached, lying on the counter, blanketed with dirt. Sole frowned and reached for a box of Sugar Bombs-- at least that's what it looked like-- but the moment she touched it, the dry cardboard crumbled at her touch. Shaking her hand free of the filth, she turned and faced the old table. Three chairs lined the edges, one of them lying sideways on the floor. It hurt to think that had she not woken, and had Codsworth not been there, that her house would have looked the same way; neglected and decomposed. She shook her head, perishing the thoughts. She could tell by the table setting that once, at least three people lived there. A family, perhaps?

Sighing, she worked her way down the hall. Paintings hung on the walls, but the actual images had deteriorated, exposed for too long to the heat and harsh, airy moisture. What a shame. What a waste. Her head hung as she past the bathroom, the marble tub cracked and mirror broken and smeared. Nothing to see in there. Nothing she hadn't seen a hundred times.

Next to it was the master bedroom, small but spacious. Only the bed frame remained, and a few pieces of furniture. Likely, the place had been pillaged years ago. There wouldn't be anything worth taking or salvaging, but it never hurt to look. Sole dragged her feet on the floor, shimmying past the misplaced dresser. As she stepped around it she heard a crunch. A small picture frame sat underfoot, surrounded by broken glass. She didn't do it; it was broken ages ago, but she still felt guilty. She picked up the paper, tearing the edge as it had corroded to the floor. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to perceive the image, but it was impossible. The damage was just too extensive.

As she made her way to the next room, she kept wondering why Hancock was so hell-bent on camping out in the open. Sure it was messy, but with a quick sweep and the drop of a bedroll, it was better than sleeping outside. She shrugged, stepping into the room. Two beds stood across from each other, each mattress torn and covered in stains. Any hint of technology had been taken, but it was easy to visualize where everything once was. A radio, a T.V., a computer; they were all there once, but the only thing left now was a pile of mouldy clothes by the door. Sole stifled a laugh. This was a boy's room, or rather the room of two brothers. Having had two brothers herself, she knew the signs.

"Oh, Jacob. Oh, Aiden."

The memory of her family hit hard, the reminder too much to surmount. She felt her knees shake as she took a much needed breath. With a sigh, she fell back on one of the beds, the springs squeaking as the mattress sank. It had become so worn that the soft, fluffy padding had completely deflated, and the moment it reached its limit, Sole felt something bulge beneath her butt.

"What this?" she asked, reaching between the mattress and box spring.

A small, black book slipped into her hand. It was leather, still in good shape with only minor scuffs and gashes. She tilted her head, flipping it over and back. It looked like a journal. She turned slightly, facing the window for sunlight. It was getting dark, but it was bright enough to see. She clicked the button-lock and carefully lifted the cover. She was right, it _was_ a journal, but the pages were yellowed and the writing, scribed in pencil, had smudged beyond recognition. Some words were legible, but if there was a story there, it was lost in time.

"Well, so much for that..." she sighed, turning the pages with her thumb. "Wait a minute."

Her fingers brushed a small pouch at the back. It was so tight it was barely noticeable, but it wasn't empty. With an inquisitive hum, she pulled three photographs out of the crease. They were laminated, protected and completely undamaged. The first showed a woman feeding her baby as a little boy, no more than three or four, watched with his chin on the armrest. Sole smiled, remembering her feedings with Shaun. She switched to the next picture, seeing two boys at a table. Likely the same boys, but older, one wilfully antagonizing the other with a tato. She turned it around, but the back was blank.

The last photograph was her only hope for answers. Two young men smiled at the camera, arms joined and beers clinked together. They looked happy, like a proper family. The younger of the two was a bit more rugged, but definitely better looking. His blond hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and his blue eyes easily stole the shot. Sole blushed, turning the picture sideways. Her eyes widened at the words: _McDonough brothers. Seventeen and twenty-one_. That's when it hit her. The reason Hancock was so querulous. She could hardly believe it, but she couldn't keep it down. Her voice pushed past her lips, her eyes locked on the suave man in the right corner.

"Hancock?"

"Been a while," a raspy voice chimed. Sole turned, seeing Hancock leaned against the doorway.

"Hancock! I'm sorry, I--!"

"Don't worry about it," he waved. "I'd be lyin' if I said I wouldn't do the same thing."

"I should have respected your wishes," she echoed, her eyes heavy with guilt. "I should have listen when you said you didn't want to come here."

"Nah. I should've explained myself. Doesn't make much sense, sleepin' outside, on the ground, when there's a semi-decent shelter here."

Sole bit her lip, embarrassed. "I'm really sorry."

"Is it whatchya expected?" he grinned, ignoring the needless apology.

Sole gulped, finding her composure. "What? What do you mean?"

"I mean, is it how ya expected me to look?"

Sole flinched, then looked back down at the photo. "Honestly, I never really thought about it."

Hancock snickered sarcastically. "C'mon, love. Ya don't need to make me feel better. It never crossed your mind, even once?"

Sole shook her head. "Honestly. I've literally never thought about it. I can't imagine you looking any other way. The man I met-- the way you look now-- I've always been content with that. There was never another face I envisioned."

Hancock stiffened, her words squeezing his chest. "So ... are ya disappointed?"

"What?"

"Well, uh ... I mean, I wasn't too hard on the eyes back then. And I know ya didn't approve when I told ya how I became a ghoul."

"Well, sure, I thought it was a rash decision, but this doesn't change anything." Sole dropped the photo, letting it glide onto the bed. "I don't know that man. I don't know John McDonough. All I know is Hancock." She smiled, making her way across the room. "And you know, it's not as if you're hard on the eyes _now_."

Hancock blushed, his dark cheeks turning a shade brighter. "Thanks, Sunshine." He kissed her neck and Sole giggled, pushing him away playfully. "I forgot those even existed," he wisped.

He walked to the bed and grabbed the photo with the woman. He stared silently, a melancholic smile stretching across his face.

"Is that your mom?" Sole asked, looking over his shoulder. "She's beautiful."

"Most gorgeous creature on the planet," he winked. "Next to you, of course. But that's different."

Sole's face lit up at the compliment. "Where was your father in all this?" she stuttered, flustered, but intrigued to learn more.

"Oh, that waste of space?" he grumbled. Sole instantly regretting asking. "I think this picture was the only thing he ever stuck around for. Mom practically had to pull his teeth out to get him to take it, or so I was told. And it's a miracle his drunk hands stayed steady long enough to focus. He spent the next couple a years in and out. Sometimes he'd bring food. Sometimes he'd bring his anger. We were more like a convenient rest stop than his family, really." He growled deeply. "One night he came back just a bit too wasted, and he nearly beat my mom within an inch of her life. If Guy and me hadn't ... hadn't done what we did, he probably woulda killed her."

Sole's eyes darkened. "Did you kill him?"

"No," he said quickly. "But Guy sliced him up good. I was only four at the time, but I grabbed our baseball bat and whacked him with all the strength I could muster. By the time we finished, he was so out of it he hobbled outta here and never came back. Don't know if he died or found someone else to harass, but we never saw him again. We searched for his body, but nothin' turned up. Not that we really cared. He beat my mom so bad she never walked again."

"My God. I'm ... I'm so sorry, Hancock."

"Hey, it wasn't all bad," he chirped, throwing his arm over her shoulder. "Despite everything, she was still the best damn mom a kid could ask for. She took care of us; worked past her limitations, and we took care a her, too. When she got sick--" He lowered his head, his smile fading. "Well, the years took their toll. You know how it is out here. That picture ... was the last picture she ever took."

Sole swallowed a lump in her throat. "I'm sorry, Hancock...."

"S'all right," he buzzed. "After that, we just couldn't stay here anymore. Guy and me had a fallin' out, so we took to the road for a change a pace. He'd become so brutal, to the point that he almost resembled my old man. We spent years watchin' each other backs, but somethin' inside him changed when our mother died. He became more dishonest, more ruthless, and obsessed with power. Eventually, we made our way to Diamond City. The rest ya know."

Sole stared in silence, her eyes filled with pain. Hancock noticed the expression. _That_ was why he didn't want her to know. He didn't want the pity. Not from her. Not after everything she'd been through. She went to speak, shining with sympathy, but he flicked her nose light-heartedly.

"Ow!" she cried, rubbing the nub. "What was _that_ for?"

"Now we're even," he grinned. "Consider it payback for comin' here when we agreed against it."

Sole scratched her neck shamefully. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizin'. No harm done." He gathered the photographs and slipped them back into the journal. "Can't believe I used to jot my days down," he mumbled. "Guy always gave me a hard time about it. Said it wasn't somethin' boys were supposed to do."

Sole frowned, crossing her arms. "I think it shows ambition and intelligence," she grit.

Hancock chuckled. "Yeah? That does _sound_ like me," he praised. Sole giggled as he helped her off the bed. "Hey. Are you happy? With me?"

"What?"

"I mean, with this face and how I _used_ to look--"

Sole cupped his chin, meeting his gaze. "I don't care about the past," she soothed. "I care about _you_. I care about _Hancock_. _He's_ the man I fell in love with."

Hancock smiled, then gently pressed his lips into hers. Sole took a sharp breath, lost in his embrace. Eyes closed, he tossed the book onto the bed and bent her back, kissing her passionately. Sole moaned, hugging his neck as her mouth curved into a smile. When he pulled away, she looked up at him with a captivated expression.

"C'mon, love. Let's get this freak show on the road."

Sole laughed as he walked her out the door. Before entering the hall, however, she ran back and grabbed the journal. Hancock watched helplessly as she removed the pictures, picking one out of the pile, then returning to his side. With a smile, she handed him the photo of his mother, and he accepted it graciously.

"Thanks, Sunshine. I guess there's nothin' wrong with rememberin' the good times."

"Not at all," she beamed, reaching for his hand. "Come on, then. Let's head home."

"Gladly." He wrapped his fingers around hers, holding tight. "And when we get there, maybe we can take some new pictures with that pro-snap camera a yours." Sole smiled. "Make some new memories?"

"Build a future," he added, swinging her arm. "I think it's time."

"Sounds like a plan," she laughed. "Sounds like a plan."


End file.
